Shadow of Light
by The Darkness Factor
Summary: The year is 1980.  Thirty five years ago, Albus Dumbledore failed and fell to one of the greatest dark wizards of all time.  Now, the wizarding world of Great Britain is hanging by a thread, and Bellatrix Lestrange watches it grow more frayed each day.
1. Prologue: The End

Greetings, readers. This is the beginning of my first Harry Potter fic, since I love alternate universe scenarios. I can't explain very much; you'll have to read on to find out more. I can say that this fanfic focuses on multiple characters and will probably change point of views often. In this, some roles will be reversed, while others will be similar to what they were in canon. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; all material concerning Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Shadow of Light**

**Prologue: The End**

They were waiting.

Exactly what they were waiting for, no one knew. They might have been waiting simply for the rain to cease cascading from the sky. They might have been waiting for the tears to stop flowing from mourner's faces, joining the rain in the mud. Each was pointed upwards, looking up as if the dark clouds could part, and offer some sort of hope for them. Yet despite this, most of them knew that it was virtually impossible. In one night, their world had shattered.

All they could do was salute the Fallen One.

Time lost all meaning at that point; they felt as though they could have waited for days, weeks, even. Their eyes reflected the despair that emanated from each person before the gravesite, knowing that this was only the beginning. There were some who stood with hardened expressions, or blank expressions, but not a single happy face was present in the crowd. In this place of death, they were more vulnerable than ever- open to the darkness that clawed hungrily at the country of Great Britain.

A single green flash of light had extinguished all hope.

* * *

><p>Hours later, there were only two who stood by the tomb. Both were men, and they stood approximately three feet apart from each other. One stared at the grave with a mixture of hatred and bitterness, while the other appeared to have genuine regret on his face. They could not contrast each other more; dark brown, light blond; dark eyed, blue eyed. And yet those who could say they knew them well would say that their souls were not so very different.<p>

"I find myself wondering what you would be doing here," said the dark one, breaking the tense silence between them at last. He didn't bother to look at the other, eyes still fixed upon the grave, his expression carefully blank. His features were handsome, and one could see that he was a charismatic sort of person when not showing hostility, as he was doing now.

"I would ask the same thing," retorted the other, surprisingly quiet. "He was, after all, my friend."

The laugh that came from the first was high pitched and cold.

"Spoken like a true murderer," he replied, sounding like he really was amused. "Yet I sense no guilt from you. Tell me, then; why have you returned?" This time he turned his head slightly. "Merely to gloat? I know that isn't it, that's below you; or perhaps you wish to pay your respects and beg for forgiveness? That fool would have given it to you, you know, but no; that was never enough."

The second was handsome like the first, but with a more roguish look. His hair fell into his eyes, and there was the ghost of a playful grin on his face. However, at the first's words, he merely sighed into the wind, his gaze still fixed upon the tomb.

"He could have had it all," he murmured, more to himself than anything. "But he threw away the chance. We could have been masters of death itself."

This time, the laugh that erupted was almost a shriek, and didn't seem to suit the dark haired figure's appearance. He almost bent over this time, cracking up in mirth, while the other steadfastly ignored him. Today he had vowed not to kill, and he always kept his promises. No matter how the other baited him, he refused to rise to it.

"You seek to defeat death?" The dark one looked away, still quaking with amusement. "You believe that three mere items give you all the power you need to defeat that monstrosity? A cloak to hide you from it, a stone to humiliate it, and a wand to defeat it- but what will you do when age begins rotting you from the inside out? Surely these questions must be gnawing at you already; you would not be so foolish as to delay in seeking the answers, would you?"

The blond one smoothly drew his wand, studying it with fascination, before finally choosing to turn over to the other and meet his eyes. Black and blue, like bruises.

"It is clear to me that you do not understand the true power of the Hallows," he said, sighing. "Do you really not desire to hold a wand that will always overpower others? It killed what many claimed to be the greatest wizard in history, and yet you still believe that the Hallows will not protect me from such things. The wand, as well as the others, is nothing short of extraordinary."

"You've simply hit upon my point," said the first, smiling coldly. "I do not need the wand; I am already extraordinary."

"So you say…" murmured the other, but he now looked thoughtful, and turned back to the burial site. He tapped his chin with his finger. "I can understand why the Stone would not appeal to you; after all, you fear the dead. But the cloak…"

"I have already stated my disinterest. My reasons are mine and mine alone."

A pause.

"Have you considered my offer?"

"Consider it declined."

"That's a shame," said the light one with a long sigh. "Now then, I really do have business to attend to." Another pause. "Only a fool would deny that he was a great wizard, don't you agree?"

The first gave a jerk of the head, which could be indicated as a nod. The contempt in his eyes was clear.

"I… have my own agendas for today."

"As do I."

Neither one moved.

It kept raining.

* * *

><p><em>The dark wizard Grindelwald had been terrorizing the European mainland for years. Pleas for help were thrown at Hogwarts' esteemed headmaster, but their calls went unanswered for the longest time, while horror gripped the continent. Great Britain was peaceful, yes, but guilt ate away at the headmaster for years, until finally he made the decision to end it all.<em>

_ He confronted Grindelwald, and the two engaged in a spectacular duel. They appeared to be evenly matched with one another, but then it shrank down to a contest of unspoken magic. They did not even need specific incantations; their wands did whatever they wanted. It came down to a contest of power. _

_ Grindelwald won, and Albus Dumbledore fell, hit by a Killing Curse. Just like that, the hope of the Wizarding World was gone. _

_ There were thousands present at his funeral, content to stand vigil despite the foul weather. His brother, Aberforth, did not attend. _

_ Minerva McGonagall, who had replaced Dumbledore as the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts, ascended to become the youngest Headmistress ever to lead the school. She was also the one who made a dangerous decision- the decision to allow Tom Marvolo Riddle to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He did nothing suspicious while teaching, and befriended many of the staff members. Minerva herself was succeeded by Dorcas Meadowes, a former Auror. _

_ Many years after Dumbledore's death, Grindelwald set his sights on the island that had supposedly escaped his notice previously. In his first attack, the village of Ottery St. Catchpole was completely decimated, scaring the wits out of many witches and wizards. When more raids began in earnest, and several of the darker families joined forces with Grindelwald, everyone was surprised at who decided to act. _

_ Tom Riddle, who had already gotten into several disagreements with the Ministry of Magic regarding his teachings, took matters into his own hands, forming the Shadow Alliance, of which he was leader. The purpose of the name was to strike fear into the enemy, but it did not succeed; Grindelwald's followers, bloated by power, merely laughed- until one of their prime fighters came close to death in the Alliance's first attempt at revenge. Some families who had allied with Grindelwald turned back- especially when it was announced that Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin. _

_ However, there were members of all four houses joining, wanting nothing more than the safety of their loved ones. One such person was Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; another was Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, and then Minerva McGonagall herself became a prominent member. Mostly, however, people only caught rumors, as the Alliance only leaked to press what they wanted to leak. _

_ However, Grindelwald had uncountable numbers at his command, and he was relentless. Many died, and he was crushing the resistance, despite the Shadow Alliance's efforts. Years passed, and more people joined each side. The Shadow Alliance gained James Potter, Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Andromeda Tonks. _

_ However, when Grindelwald learned about the one thing that could end him, he went beserk, very nearly destroying Tom Riddle in a duel. He failed, but vowed to use all of his resources to stop it. _

_ Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy joined his side, able to provide him valuable information. _

_ Yes… in 1980, Great Britain was hanging on by a thread. And it weakened day by day._

* * *

><p><em>"In the end, there will be one;<em>

_ One to pierce the darkness. _

_ Three will gather, but only one will prevail._

_ The second is her pillar, the only thing she can rely on;_

_ The third can be her bane, or her greatest weapon,_

_ But in the end, only one will pierce the darkness…_

_ Using darkness itself."_


	2. Chapter 1: Potentially Problematic

Hello again. This is the first chapter of Shadow of Light, where some of the situation is outlined. I'll be able to get into full detail next chapter, but for now this will explain the situation with the main character: Bellatrix. I realize that this seems to be a little late into her life, but I felt like this was a good place to start. The first few chapters will probably outline the past before moving on to the future.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; everything concerning the subject belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Enjoy.

**Shadow of Light**

**Chapter 1: Potentially Problematic**

"Wait! Please- please, just tell me!"

A girl with dark hair stormed through the trees of the grounds, ignoring the presence of the person who ran after her; her long strides ate up the ground easily, causing her little sister to struggle to keep up, but she paid that no mind. She was in no mood to speak to her at the moment, and her dark eyes held the promise of a storm, which threatened to break at any moment. A third followed the other two listlessly, taking her own pace and observing the other two with sharp blue eyes that took in every detail, watching while her siblings clashed.

"Bella!"

The dark haired girl continued to steadfastly ignore her sister; the two were similar in appearance, though the younger had a friendlier, less formal and rigid complexion than the eldest. Her wide blue eyes tried to make contact with Bella's dark orbs, but nothing worked; she could not get her sister to pay attention to her. She briefly wondered if she could possibly force Bellatrix to listen, or to tell her what was wrong, but Bella had always intimidated her somewhat. Strange that that intimidation did not seem to work on Narcissa, who was still trailing behind them.

Andromeda was beginning to feel desperate; if she could not persuade Bellatrix to talk to her, then she knew that she would lose her sister behind yet another mental barrier, built up for the sole purpose of keeping her sisters out of her problems. Andromeda knew that that wasn't the answer; they had to stick together! That was what family did- wasn't it?

Bellatrix soon arrived at her destination- their favorite tree, an ancient thing, perfect for climbing. Despite the expensive robes that her sister donned, she didn't hesitate to clamber up in the branches. Andromeda quickly followed, determined not to give up. After ascending by several branches, Cissy arrived at the tree; she only paused a moment before grasping a limb and pulling herself up. Bella herself had almost reached her favorite vantage point, where she could look out over the grounds of the Black Manor and view it all.

Once the three of them had settled into place, Andromeda swallowed. They were relatively comfortable in their respective seating places, but that didn't mean that her sister would be willing to speak to them. Bellatrix didn't so much as look their way; the only thing that showed that she was aware of their presence was her clenched fists. She had been called to their father's study only thirty minutes ago, and had walked out calmly enough, but Andromeda had immediately seen that something was wrong, and had begun to pester her, which triggered Bella's current emotional state.

"Bella"- She began.

"Let it go, 'Dromeda," interrupted Narcissa loudly, her eyes fixed on her eldest sister, not even looking at the middle one. "If she doesn't want to talk about her betrothal, then we can't make her."

Bellatrix's head snapped around so fast that she thought she heard her neck crack- but if it had, then Bella didn't wince. Her black eyes were wide with surprise and suspicion. She swept her long, black hair behind her shoulders, glaring balefully at the fair haired girl below her. Andromeda too had turned around to look at the youngest, amazed at Narcissa's powers of perception.

"How do you know about that?" demanded Bellatrix.

"Lucky guess."

Bellatrix sucked in a sharp breath, looking for a moment like she was going to shout at Narcissa then and there. However, she quickly regained control, taking in a deep breath and steadying herself. Andromeda relaxed as well, glad that Bella wasn't going to be shouting at them; her rants never failed to make her flinch. Still, Bellatrix didn't look all that happy at having her secret out in the open for the other two sisters to see.

"So… who is it?" asked Andromeda hesitantly, feeling sorry for her sister. They had all known that one day they would be obligated to marry someone of their parents' choosing, but Bella was only twelve; it seemed too early for her to be tied down to someone else just yet. Andromeda felt that her sister deserved better; she deserved to be with someone she cared about, but she chose not to voice this opinion, simply because she knew that Bella wouldn't appreciate it. She was a Slytherin through and through, and was proud to uphold her parents' honor.

Judging by the look on Bellatrix's face, however, she believed that this was stretching her loyalties a bit far.

"Rodolphus Lestrange." Her voice had rarely been so cold, her eyes rarely so bleak. Andromeda gaped openly, while Narcissa's face twisted in disgust. None of them particularly liked Rodolphus, who was an arrogant sixth year that had nothing better to do than hex students younger than him. All three Black sisters regarded him with disdain, believing that a pureblood of his status should have found a more productive way to pass the time. However, Andromeda knew why Bellatrix especially would hate (and possibly fear) to marry him: her sister had been one of the only ones to best him in a duel, despite their age difference.

Andromeda cringed at the thought; her sister had only been protecting her.

"That's horrible," said Narcissa, breaking the tense silence at last. "And he's not even very handsome, is he?" Her nose was wrinkled as it often was when they broached upon a subject that she disliked. She swept her blond hair behind her shoulder, locking eyes with Bellatrix for a few moments while silent agreement passed between them. Andromeda held back a snort; to say that Lestrange wasn't handsome was an understatement if there ever was one.

Suddenly Bellatrix let all of the tension flow out of her body, and she went limp, resigned acceptance in her eyes. The same sort of look was present on Cissy's face, and Andromeda suddenly felt panic. What would happen when they each did get married? Would they be separated forever, would their bond die out with time? Would they be so busy that they forgot one another? Neither of the other two seemed all that concerned, but she didn't want to lose her sisters to the life of a prim and proper wife for a pureblooded family. Without thinking, she grabbed their wrists.

"What"- began Bellatrix, trying to pull away from her grip.

"Please listen!" begged Andromeda, feeling the beginnings of tears form in her eyes. She would have wiped them away, but she didn't want to let go of her sisters. Bella's eyes were narrowed, while Narcissa only looked surprised. She gulped and drew a deep breath before plunging on with her speech.

"Someday, if Mother and Father have their way, we're all going to be wedded off to people that we probably don't know… and I don't want to just have an empty life. We'll still stick together, right?" She looked desperately at both sisters, feeling the tears finally fall. "I knew all along really… but finding out about Bella's engagement had set off all of my fears. I don't want to lose you two!"

"Mother and Father always have their way," muttered Bellatrix darkly, but her eyes softened when she looked at Andromeda, and she gently maneuvered her hand so that it rested in her sister's grip. "You won't lose us, 'Dromeda; we're sisters. We stick together."

Andromeda gulped in air, willing the tears back while Narcissa agreed with the eldest, surprisingly vehement in her statement. She didn't see the way Bellatrix's eyes flared with protectiveness when they landed on her and Narcissa, didn't see the way that her fists were clenched on the fabric of her robes.

Bellatrix was going to keep her word, and to hell with anyone who got in her way.

The three sisters would quickly gain different reputations when finally going to Hogwarts. Other families had prevented their children from attending, fearing an attack by the dark wizard Grindelwald was imminent. The Blacks were outraged that anyone would deny their children a proper education, which Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa had all been grateful for.

Being the oldest, Bella was the first, and had quickly proved her brilliance and hardworking ethic, doing everything in her power to make her mother and father proud of her. She studied often and received top marks, and most of the teachers praised her… though every now and then she had almost been caught doing something questionable. Andromeda had always known that her older sister would be the family's great beauty, with the classic Black looks, and she drew the attention of many of the opposite sex, though Bella rarely indulged them, choosing to usually string them along and then break it off for unexplained reasons.

What was legendary, however, was the animosity that seemed to crackle in the air whenever she was present in Professor Riddle's class. Bellatrix always seized the chance to get in a snide remark aimed at him, and he seemed to take smooth jabs at her whenever he could. It was a game that someone wouldn't normally notice, but people who had been seeing it for years would easily recognize it. Andromeda had once witnessed Bellatrix and Professor Riddle having what appeared to be a civilized conversation in the corridor, but her eyes had widened in shock at the veiled insults that flew between the two. Normally, no one would dare to face off against Riddle; he had a way of intimidating people, but Bella never backed down from a challenge.

Andromeda had never considered herself to be special; she still didn't understand why she was placed in Slytherin house. Sure, her entire family had been in Slytherin, but she wasn't as harsh or ambitious as the rest of them, yet the Sorting Hat had given barely a thought before shouting the name out. She remembered seeing Bellatrix clapping so hard that she'd shaken the goblets on the table before her and drew several disapproving stares from her housemates; Andromeda had beamed back at her. She herself was similar looking to her sister- same hairstyle and complexion, but her features didn't have the same harsh, raw beauty that her sister possessed. She looked gentler, and people weren't nervous around her like they were around Bella.

She wasn't smart, she wasn't overly pretty, and she wasn't frightening. She didn't have any hidden, special talents. She was simply average. However, if there was one thing she hated, it was Ted Tonks. The obnoxious Gryffindor mudblood never failed to make her sick to her stomach each time she had to be in the same room with him. He was always trying to defend his bloodline, and she hated hearing it. She was just plain sick of his speeches.

And then there was Narcissa. Her looks were almost the opposite of Bellatrix's; she looked almost fragile with her light, slender build and the fair hair that streamed down her back. She was possibly more aloof than both of her sisters, striving to be proper at all times. The hat had taken even less time to decide for her than Andromeda, and she had flowed gracefully toward the table to seat herself in between Bellatrix and Andromeda, keeping her face neutral. There was no denying, however, that she held a certain admiration for Lucius Malfoy, one of the prefects- which of course caused Bella to instantly dislike him.

And yet… despite their outward appearances, the three sisters remained undeniably close. They could still talk openly with one another in private, though this time was mostly spent listening to Bellatrix list the people she was holding a grudge against that week, or listening to Andromeda rant on and on about how much Tonks disgusted her, or putting up with Narcissa's praise for Malfoy, before teasing her about it relentlessly.

Life had its ups and downs, but it was good.

That is, until…

* * *

><p>Darkness. Walls shaking. Trembling. Fear in her mouth. Adrenaline pumping through her veins. Wand clutched in one hand; another hand clutched in the other. Running. Darkness. Fear. Screaming until her throat was raw. Flash. Bang. Get the door open. These fleeting thoughts were all that crossed her mind as she wrenched Andromeda along behind her, forcing her way into the room at the end of the hall. Thankfully, the door hadn't been locked.<p>

"Cissy!" she hissed, casting her eyes about the room wildly. So far, the bedroom had remained intact, with the ornate four poster still in the center and an expensive mahogany desk sat on the side. Her little sister was nowhere in sight, but she could make out muffled sobs issuing from the wardrobe. Another loud bang shook the manor, and she hurried over to Narcissa's hiding place. Behind her, Andromeda let out a fearful whimper as Bellatrix threw open the wardrobe.

For a few moments, she thought that Narcissa was going to attack her. Then her eyes widened in recognition, and she flung herself at Bella, nearly knocking her over. "Bella!" she half-shrieked, half-whispered, clutching at her sister with terror in her eyes. Bellatrix knew that there was no time, and struggled to get her way out of her younger sister's grip to no avail; Cissy only gripped her harder, tears pouring down her face.

There was another bang, this time followed by muffled shouting. Bellatrix shoved her panic down inside her, trying to get Narcissa to listen.

"Cissy! Cissy, I promise I'll give you as many hugs as you want later, but right now we've got to get out of here!" she snarled, not caring if she sounded too harsh. Her sister's blue eyes widened, but after a second she nodded her understanding. This time Bellatrix brought up the rear as the three of them sprinted through the manor, hoping that the east wing hadn't yet been overcome by invaders. There was a yell from behind them; without looking, she cast the Reductor curse over her shoulder, gratified to hear another explosion behind her. Cissy stumbled, only to be pulled up by her.

"Argh!" Andromeda crumpled to the ground, groaning and clutching her ankle. Unable to think fast enough to cast a spell, Bellatrix bent down and scooped her up, hoping that she didn't slow them down too badly. A lamp on the wall overhead exploded, showering them with fragments of glass, but neither her nor Narcissa looked back; they were almost at the passage. Bellatrix spied the seemingly ordinary painting of Merlin and shouted the password at it with the little strength that her lungs had left.

_"Toujours Pur!"_ Obvious to any who was a member of the Black family, but not so obvious to those who weren't. The usual squeak that the artwork made as it slid aside was covered up by the sounds that the invaders made while wreaking havoc, but Merlin still winked jovially at the three of them as they hurried on. The moment it slid shut behind them, Bella sank to the bottom of the passage, trying to catch her breath and ignore the way the manor was shaking. Andromeda gave another little moan and shifted in her lap, struggling not to cry like Narcissa was.

For several minutes, the pitch dark passageway was silent except for the echoes of the attack and Cissy's sobbing. Andromeda was the first one to speak, almost causing Bellatrix to jump.

"W-where are Mother and Father?"

Bellatrix gulped, slightly startled. She never was a very good liar when it came to her sisters, and she wasn't one to try to comfort them by giving them false information. Still, she felt horrible for not being able to do more for them. It felt like being stabbed in the chest when she realized that their parents could be just as good as dead, and that they would never see their father's proud smile, or their mother's gentle one again. The thought was almost too awful to bear.

"I don't know," she said curtly. "If they followed the emergency instructions, they should be here. If not…" She couldn't complete the thought. Cissy only sobbed harder, but Andromeda, to her surprise, nodded her understanding, even if it was a little unsteady. Narcissa scooted towards her, pressing up against her side and laying her head on her shoulder, while Bella herself absentmindedly began stroking Andromeda's hair. She knew a few healing spells, but in the dark she couldn't tell if her sister's leg was broken or if she'd sprained her ankle. Thinking fast, she flicked her wand, conjuring and ice pack and laying it carefully on 'Dromeda's leg, ignoring her sister's wince. They silently agreed not to talk for now; all they could do was wait and hope.

Bellatrix's thoughts wandered, and she tried to keep the images from popping up, images of her parents, lying in the sitting with glassy, unseeing eyes, or with mangled, unrecognizable bodies. She shuddered when she thought of all of the things that the _Pugiles Mortem_ were capable of, and sincerely hoped that the more notorious members of Grindelwald's army hadn't decided to partake in this raid. In the end, she decided that she would wait for half an hour before the three of them would be forced to leave on their own, and tried to get the pictures out of her mind.

The tension in the passage mounted as the minutes ticked on by, with Bella glancing at her pocket watch every thirty seconds, almost unable to look away, or even breathe. Narcissa quieted soon, but was still pressed up against her in anxiety. Andromeda might have been sleeping, if her eyes hadn't been wide open and fixed on the direction they'd come from. Her watch made a very slight noise as it worked, barely audible over the noises. The shouts were still echoing, but the bangs and booms had slowed down a bit.

_Click._

The minute hand hit the opposite side, and Bellatrix understood that she could not afford to wait any longer.

None of them looked back as the Black sisters made their escape.

* * *

><p>When the door flew open with a crash that he was sure took out some of the wall, the first thing he did was dive behind the desk next to him, while a hex flew over his head and exploded. He blinked, but the <em>Mortis Vindex<em> he had been expecting wasn't standing there in blood red robes. Instead, a tall, imposing woman stood there, wand pointed at him, chest heaving in fury. He didn't relax; he didn't really put it past her to curse him if she was in this bad of a mood.

"You're an idiot!" she shouted, storming into the room and grasping him by the collar of his shirt before practically throwing him into his chair. He groaned, turning a feeble glare on his raging cousin, and tried hard not to laugh at how completely disheveled she look. Her long black hair was curling at the ends, and her face were covered in soot. Her dark eyes blazed forth, not at all willing to put up with his attitude. Before he could say anything else, she drawn back a fist and landed it on the side of his face, causing him to spin wildly in his chair.

"You knew!" she roared, looking as though she was barely able to keep herself from strangling him. "You knew that De Sort was going to be there! How many times have I told you to _keep me away from that damn bitch?"_

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, dodging another swipe from her. "We needed you in that mission, there wasn't anyone else we could send!"

_"Sirius…"_

"All right, all right!" He knew that when she actually chose to call him by his first name, she meant business. Rarely had he seen his cousin so angry; the only other times had been when she was around her father, and that was different. Then, she would be completely cold, unreachable, appearing as though she would explode at any moment… but she never did. It was as if she didn't think that the energy was worth wasting on Cygnus Black. Now she was willing to be a tad more forthcoming with her fury.

"What happened?" he pressed, not knowing what else to say. Bellatrix sagged, looking suddenly exhausted at the question. Instantly something heavy entered his stomach; he knew that look. The deadened look that entered her eyes when something went wrong. He was used to it by now; these days, with the Aurors outnumbered as they were, something almost always went wrong. His cousin had so much more guilt to live with than he; she'd been doing this for far longer.

Opening her mouth, she began to explain.

* * *

><p>Dark brown eyes flickered between the two men, not showing any emotion, as most politicians did. Yet the Japanese witch in front of them had a firm frown on her face while she tapped her chin with her forefinger. He had very calmly explained the situation in Europe to her, hoping that she would not judge him by his own reputation, but rather by the needs of the witches and wizards that remained free from Grindelwald's grasp. He had schooled his expression to be polite and courteous in order to elicit trust.<p>

Beside him, Lucius Malfoy had attempted to do the same, but the blond haired man did not possess his charisma and persuasiveness. The glint in the girl's eyes, however, told him that she'd seen through it, but was still willing to consider his position. They both stood awaiting her response. There was just a tiny problem with their situation.

The witch in front of him was only twelve years old.

Haruka Miyamori, better known simply as Empress, had ascended to the throne rather early after her father had betrayed Japan by helping the Chinese Ministry of Magic attack them. Despite her young age, she, like the entire Miyamori clan, was a born and bred politician. Clad in a traditional kimono, she stood tall and proud, unafraid to meet their eyes. Already she had a mastery of Occlumency that almost rivaled his own, and she was supposedly proficient at magic with or without a wand. Her black hair was painstaking styled up above her head.

Her proud demeanor was ruined by her pallid look. Empress Miyamori was almost sickly- too thin, too pale, and with dark circles beneath her eyes. It occurred to him then that she probably wouldn't live for very long, given her hectic lifestyle. She looked between the two of them, not even seeming to notice the presence of her two bodyguards behind her as she mulled over what him and Lucius had said to her.

At long last, she spoke. Her voice was uncharacteristically low for someone her age.

"I acknowledge the benefits that an alliance with the Dark Lord would give," she stated, nodding at Lucius, who inclined his head in response. "However, it is my belief that Professor Riddle's version of events has proven to be more factual. Moreover, he has proven that he would value my membership in the Shadow Alliance by coming here himself. Had the Dark Lord shown up, I might have reconsidered, but this implies that he believes himself above all others. That is something I cannot, under any circumstances, tolerate.

"Do not make the assumption that I have made up my mind. I will have to gather public opinion, as well as the opinion of my advisors, on the subject. As a politician, I am fully aware that a leader should not allow for the public to sway his or her decisions; he or she should know what is best for their country. But I must at least pretend that I appreciate their opinions somewhat."

Her eyes bored into their, imperative and yet sympathetic at the same time.

"I shall give you my answer in three days time."

She waved her hand in an obvious dismissal, and both of them bowed low before turning in unison to exit the meeting place, which happened to be a hidden room at the base of the dojo. In winter, the sakura trees were deadened, lifeless- a sight that was oddly fitting with Lucius Malfoy striding through them. Tom offered himself a small, triumphant smirk at the way the man glared at him furiously, and knew that Lucius' loathing of him was sprung from fear of his master.

Overall, he would say that negotiations with Empress Miyamori had gone remarkably well. He had expected her to be an elderly woman with a closed mind who clung to old traditions, not a bold and calculating twelve year old whose intelligence was almost worrisome. If anything, she reminded him of himself at her age. Confident, powerful…

…Arrogant. But he needed that in an ally.

Once outside the range of the apparition wards around the palace, he turned on the spot and vanished, reappearing in the quarters that had been granted to him when he'd first arrived in the magic village that sat near the Imperial Palace of magical Japan. He didn't mind much that they were plain, apart from the carefully woven tapestry that sat on one wall. In place of a bed was a futon (he couldn't understand why the Japanese slept on the floor), but thankfully his rooms had a fireplace. He sighed and decided that perhaps the best course of action would be a cup of tea- they did have excellent tea here- which he needed after a full day of bartering with Haruka Miyamori.

A loud cough interrupted his musings, and he turned, not at all surprised to find the head of one of the Shadow Alliance's more prominent members sitting in the fire. He'd been expecting Sirius to report for some time now, and was actually somewhat annoyed that he hadn't contacted him earlier that day. As they always did around him, Black's eyes held a certain amount of wariness when looking at him. Tom withheld a snort at that; he knew that sometimes he could give off a bad impression to others, but really, that was no reason to fear him.

"The raiding party got back a few hours ago."

Tom raised an eyebrow, realizing that Sirius could be hesitant for a completely different reason than what he'd assumed. "And?"

"It failed. Seven dead; two were hit by De Sort."

Seven dead… that meant that there had only been one survivor. Whoever it was must have been hard pressed to get out of the fray. He did almost wince when he was told that two were killed by De Sort. He knew exactly the kind of methods she used, having witnessed them firsthand when Grindelwald had attempted to take Hogwarts five years ago. It wasn't a pleasant experience for her victims. Still, this raid had been of the utmost importance, and it hadn't been successful.

"Explain," he ordered curtly, but then another thought occurred to him. "Who was it that survived? And how?"

Sirius nodded, looking apprehensive. "The Aurors are stretched thin these days, Professor Riddle," he began, swallowing. "I didn't have very many choices for who to lead it, and I couldn't let anyone inexperienced do that. I had to pick my cousin to do it. She did manage to get the item we needed, but as for the lives of the team… there were too many others. The _Pugiles Mortem_ were one step ahead of us again, and I've explained how she gets around De Sort."

Tom closed his eyes, letting out a breath and willing himself to stay patient. He should have listened to Sirius and allowed him to lead the mission, especially if that meant that Bellatrix wouldn't lead the mission. Once, she had been an excellent Auror- he might even have allowed her to become a member of the Shadow Alliance- but something during a mission had happened, landing her in prison for three straight years. When she'd emerged, much of her sanity had deteriorated, and she held an irrational hatred for anything to do with Grindelwald that made her reckless during missions. Most people put it more harshly, calling her (quoting James Potter), "Downright batshit crazy."

"And how did she react when she found out that we were aware of De Sort's presence?" he asked dryly.

Sirius chuckled without humor. "Tried to hex me- plus, I'm almost one hundred percent certain that she broke my door."

"Shame," replied Tom dryly. "I presume that you have informed Minerva of this as well?"

"Yup."

"Very well. Dismissed."

Sirius vanished.

* * *

><p>London could be so very bleak in the summer.<p>

A fine drizzle permeated the air around Bellatrix Lestrange as she wandered through the streets, her eyes fixed upon the soaked issue of the Daily Prophet clutched in her cold, clammy hands. On the front page was a picture of Professor Riddle, the teacher whom she had constantly been at verbal warfare with at school. The article (written by the vulture, Rita Skeeter) railed on and on about how he was really practicing dark magic and intended to become the next Dark Lord when he toppled Grindelwald. She snorted at the thought; Riddle had given up on his ambitions long ago. She felt a twisted sort of pride when her name was mentioned, saying that she was, "known to be mentally unstable" and "was also a practitioner of the Dark Arts". So what if she sometimes practiced the Cruciatus Curse on her enemies?

A much smaller article stated her name again, this time titled, "Lestrange Refuses Divorce Once Again". She felt absolute hatred rise up inside her like a rearing cobra as she thought of the man. He selfishly sat in Grindelwald's inner circle, soaking in his master's glory and ignoring the fact that she in no way wanted to be bonded to him anymore. She suspected that he did it because he wanted access to the Black family fortune. No matter; she had the key to her vault now, and damn anyone who tried to get their hands on it.

Ignoring the way that the cold seemed to chill her to the bone, she entered one of the parks, settling down on a bench and reveling in the silence. In Nurmengard, there had never been silence. Someone was always screaming, or shouting, or she was listening to harsh memories in her mind- of the day that her father had reappeared, a broken man, explaining that Druella had not made it. She would never forgive him.

Never.

Of course, the inside of her head was never, ever silent. There was always someone speaking in there, reminding her of little things that she didn't want to know. Too often, it spoke of her blood traitor sister, and how she was happy with her mudblood of a husband; or it spoke of Rouge De Sort, who was possibly someone she would give her own magic just to see killed with her own methods.

_Revenge isn't right. _

_ Vengeance is delightful._

_ Mother loves me._

_ Father should be burning in hell right now. _

_ Cissy won't even look at me anymore. _

_ I hate those looks of pity Andromeda gives me. _

_ Screw life. _

_ No one cares if you die…_

_ No one cares if you live, either…_

_ You're alone._

"SHUT UP!" she screamed suddenly, violently pulling out her wand and tearing apart the Prophet with a nonverbal Severing Charm. But she couldn't run away from the facts. She was falling apart; the failed raid had been proof of it. The world was disintegrating around her, and she wasn't sure that she could stand to watch anymore. When had this happened? When had she become so lost- so purposeless? Her mind was sick enough to enjoy people writhing in pain; she could even savor her own pain. It was how she survived when others didn't: she used her agony as fuel.

Something familiar bubbled up in her throat, and for several minutes, Bella fought against it, trying so hard to simply stay a normal human being. However, when the feeling pursued, she eventually gave in.

Bellatrix Lestrange threw back her head and let out a laugh of the dead.


	3. Chapter 2: When the Dead Walk

Another update! Whew! This chapter gets a bit more action. Thanks to all of the readers I've had so far, but it kind of disheartened me when I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter. If it won't take up too much of your time, please review. I love getting feedback, and it's really appreciated. Thanks!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I most definitely do not.

As always, enjoy!

**Shadow of Light**

**Chapter 2: When the Dead Walk**

Gellert Grindelwald coldly regarded the woman that sat in her cell, head bowed, eyes glassy. Once, he might have honored her by taking her to his chambers, but her beauty had long since wasted away from the dementors that he had recruited for his cause years ago. When she had first arrived, Bellatrix Lestrange had possessed a fiery temper and an impressive ability to swear at the top of her lungs, but that had been beaten out of her by the visions that the dementors produced daily. She didn't bother to look up as he studied her, wondering why it was that she hadn't yet broken and given up, taking up her rightful place beside her husband on his side. Perhaps it was the influence of Tom Riddle… but he had been able to discern that she and he were not particularly close.

She didn't acknowledge his presence. Either she was being defiant again, or she really didn't know he was there. Bellatrix clung to a tiny flicker of sanity, and yet somehow still wasn't broken. He had had Rodolphus and De Sort "experiment" on her so many times that the Auror had forgotten her own name, but she never did give any useful information. She simply babbled on and on about her family, mostly complaining about the, "filthy blood traitor". The few times he had allowed Narcissa Malfoy to visit her sister, Bellatrix had screamed bloody murder at her and then refused to speak at all.

He now took in her appearance. Her layer of skin clung to her bones, and seemed to shine an unhealthy white. Her hair, once lush and full, now hung a tattered mess, splayed all over the place. Her right arm was twisted at a wrong angle from when it had healed incorrectly after Rouge had broken it. He made a mental note to have somebody fix it, which would be just as, if not more, painful than having it broken in the first place.

He made a decision, stepping away until he was out of sight, leaving her to think that she was alone. Perhaps she would let something slip if she believed that she wasn't being listened to. He had tried it before, but whatever came out of her mouth was usually nonsense. However, he was nothing if not patient; maybe, this time would be different. At first she remained the same, not moving an inch from her position. After several minutes, one of her fingers twitched.

Eventually, she fell to her knees and began crawling over to the bars that blocked the front of her cell. She clung to them like a dying man, wide eyes fixed on the cell across from her. He glanced over at it, seeing that its occupant was unresponsive as always. A mess of old robes and filth. He wondered why she took interest in that particular prisoner, and resolved to look into it later. Grindelwald was startled when Bellatrix began to speak.

"That blond woman came to visit me again the other day," she slurred, her voice coming out a cracked whisper. She swallowed thickly, fingernails scrabbling at the bars, her eyes not once leaving the unmoving mass in the other cell. Her smile was haunted and empty. "I yelled at her. Did she abandon us? I don't… I don't know her… but I do know her… she left us, I know she did." The laugh that echoed forth from her traveled through Nurmengard, causing many prisoners to shiver.

"Who is she?" she asked, like a curious child. "Who is she… who…"

* * *

><p>The two wolves circled one another beneath the moonlight, snarling savagely and unwilling to back down. Their yellow eyes glowed and both were breathing feverishly. Sweat coated their fur, and flecks of blood dripped from scratch wounds. An ear flicked, a muscle twitched. Pupils dilated in bloodlust, and both froze for an instant.<p>

Pause.

With a savage howl, the larger one flung himself at the other, claws out and catching his opponent behind the ear. This prompted the wolf to roar in pain, lashing out violently and scoring wounds down his flanks. For a moment, all that could be seen was flashing claws, writhing heaps of fur, and flecks of blood flying in all directions, before the larger one pulled out and raised its head to the moon, howling in triumph. He turned and bounded away, leaving the other to lie there limply.

Hours passed, and nothing but a faint breeze stirred the fur on the motionless creature. There was a sharp crackling noise, but still the wolf did not stir. Achingly slow, the moon descended towards the horizon, filtering light through the trees. There was another sound; this time the wolf stirred, raising its head wearily. A peculiar thing was happening; his wounds appeared to be closing already, despite their severity.

The yellow eyes immediately became fixed on a shadow hiding nearby. The wolf let out a weak growl, then a loud warning bark when the figure stepped out into the open. Its eyes looked over the petite girl who crept cautiously forward, and its teeth began aching, desiring to bite, to tear, to mark this girl…

As it was thinking this, the moon descended over the horizon.

It gave a shuddering cry, cringing inward on itself and making the girl jump back in surprise. Her eyes widened when the head reverted from its elongated form, and the fur began to vanish, leaving nothing but pale skin behind. He blinked as her eyes widened in excitement, and her hair went from brown to green to red to purple and back again. She grinned in a rather lopsided manner, but it quickly slipped off of her face when he groaned in pain.

"Wotcher, there, sir!" she exclaimed, hurrying over and attempting to help him up. He winced; his injuries were not fully healed, but the girl was surprisingly strong, keeping a firm grip upon his arm. He blinked when she suddenly grew to be his height and size, looping his arm around her shoulders. Her mouth was opening and all sorts of words were flying out, but he couldn't comprehend most of them. He could only be grateful that she was helping him when she clearly knew what he was.

After what seemed like ages, the backs of houses appeared out of the woods. Dimly, he registered that they must have arrived in a neighborhood, and realized that the girl lived there. She steered him toward one house, where one frantic looking woman stood on the back porch. He strained his ears to hear her words as they neared the place, eventually able to comprehend her.

"…been worried sick! I've told you to stay close to the house when you go wandering, but instead you stay out all night, getting up to who knows what…"

Her voice trailed away as she stared at him, jaw dropping in surprise. He registered that he knew her, and blinked at her resemblance to someone else he knew as well. Her countenance was definitely lighter, but she still looked the same. Recognition flared in the woman's eyes, causing the girl helping him (most likely her daughter) to glance at him curiously. He gave her a wan smile, ignoring how the scratches itched as they healed.

"Remus!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to help her daughter. The two brought him inside, with Andromeda commanding him firmly to stay put. She told the girl to keep an eye on him, while she rushed to get bandages and water. He was a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny, but the only thing present on young Nymphadora's face was childish glee at having been the one to find and, 'rescue' him. Soon she was chattering away, far too much for a seven year old.

"My name's Nymphadora," she said happily. "I hate my name, though- don't tell Mum I said that, she'll have my head- I always tell people to just call me Tonks. All the muggle boys make fun of me for my name; I used to try beating them up when they didn't listen, since Mum said that I shouldn't use magic on them. I can't believe I still have to wait four years before I go to Hogwarts! Who are you? Are you a werewolf? I'd say that that's cool, but Dad says that it hurts a lot, and I don't want to insult you…" She stood up enthusiastically and promptly tripped over the leg of the coffee table.

He smiled softly, heartened by her energy. "Yes, I'm a werewolf. It takes getting used to, but… it isn't so bad." He thought back to what he and the Marauders used to get up to and allowed himself a grin. "My name is Remus Lupin. I'm a friend of your mother's, and… an acquaintance of your aunt's."

Nymphadora's nose wrinkled. "Which one? I mean, Aunt Narcissa betrayed us all. Mum tells me not to mention her, but she never did seem very nice. It must be Aunt Bella..." She looked at him strangely. "But Dad says that she's a nutcase now! I'm not sure if that's true… she visited us a few weeks ago and she seemed okay, apart from the fact that she refused to touch my mum and dad and gave me the shortest hug in history. I actually think she likes me, but just doesn't want to admit it. She did something funny to Sirius when they both came over once… oh yeah! She kicked him there."

She pointed at a certain spot to emphasize, and Lupin coughed loudly to hide his laughter and embarrassment on behalf of his friend. At that moment, Andromeda rushed back into the room, an expression of worry plastered on her face as she started bandaging his wounds. He shifted uncomfortably, which she scolded him for. Nymphadora continued watching, head tilted to the side. He realized that she had shrunk back to her normal height, and her hair was now almost touching the floor.

"Really, it's fine, Andromeda," he protested. "They'll heal quickly."

"You've been in the forest, Remus," she said, scowling. "If that doesn't give you an infection, I don't know what will." She was diligent in her work, firmly ignoring his protests. Eventually, he gave up, knowing that with Andromeda, it was futile. Her stubborn streak easily matched her sister's; he wasn't sure which of them would win in a contest to who was the most obstinate.

After he was suitably patched up (which included far more bandages than necessary, in his opinion), Mrs. Tonks left to cook up some breakfast for their guests. Her husband was away on a mission for the Alliance; he knew that much. Riddle gave her less work than others so that she could take care of her daughter. He wondered if Lily would receive the same treatment, as she too was pregnant. Nymphadora hurried outside to play with the boys on her street, changing her hair so that it was now short and spiky. He laid his head back, completely exhausted.

Well, that was a mission failed. He had blown his cover, which had been what caused Greyback to attack him, of course. He sighed; now, their only successful spy was Severus, and he was in a precarious position at the moment, still trying to escape the scrutiny of Bellatrix Lestrange's escape from Nurmengard. He could remember how frantically his heart had been beating when one of Greyback's minions confronted him about one little slip up he'd made, when she'd caught him sending a message to Riddle.

Eventually Andromeda returned with a plate of eggs and bacon, which made his mouth water. He tried not to be too rude, but it was difficult not to throw himself at the food and start scarfing down as much as possible. He restrained himself, eating slowly, while Andromeda settled herself down on the armchair across from him, clutching a cup of tea in her hands. She smiled gently at him, waving towards him.

"Don't be shy, now," she said. "I know a few things about your mission; you must be starving."

Nodding gratefully, he ate with significantly less dignity thereafter.

* * *

><p>Bellatrix froze in the doorway of her apartment, listening to the chatter of the insignificant muggles next door. Grumbling to herself, she stepped inside, slamming the door shut. Once again, she was hearing voices besides the ones that actually existed. Her wand didn't leave her hand; she was loathe to let it go, and it usually took her almost an hour to gather the courage to place it on her bedside table before she retired. She jabbed it at the stove, turning it off, since she'd forgotten to do so before leaving work earlier.<p>

All was well. And yet the hairs on the back of her neck continued to stand up relentless, refusing to fall back into place. She tried to calm herself; how many false alarms had she had this week? Four? It was somewhere around there, and it somehow always ended with the destruction of that damn clock on the wall. She shot a glare at it, thinking that the next time it got in her way, she wouldn't repair it.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Maybe the ghoul that lived in her closet had decided to come out again? The blasted thing never came out, though; Remus had offered to remove it, but she'd declined almost immediately. It was a reminder that her sanity was still somewhat intact. She could see Moody in her mind's eye, nodding at her approvingly for her paranoia. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, eyes darting towards all the shadowy corners of her living room.

A shuffling sound behind her.

Instantly she flattened herself to the floor, while a jet of green light flew overhead, slamming into the clock and making her scream in rage. Why was it always the clock? Whirling, she shot a nonverbal curse at her attacker, who ducked. It was a hooded _Mortis Vindex, _and they clearly meant business. Another rushed out of the doorway, shooting a purple flame at her, which she blocked with a silent Shield Charm. Not thinking, she shot four simultaneous spells at her attackers, blinking when they bounced off of their shields and proceeded to smash up her apartment. She swore loudly, prompting the both of them to shoot more curses in retaliation. She ducked beneath one while the other impacted her shield, colliding with the caster, and throwing them into the wall. Bellatrix saw that when they landed, blood began to drip down the robes, almost indistinguishable from them.

She paid for her distraction when the other shot something at her, shattering her charm, and she heard a loud snap as her right arm broke cleanly. Howling, she screeched a spell that she had become increasingly fond of when it came to Grindelwald's followers as of late:

_"Crucio!"_

It was a man, judging from his screams as he twisted into impossible contortions, trying to do anything to escape the pain. She almost laughed out loud, but it caught in her throat and she quickly ended the curse, watching while he shivered, curling up in a fetal position. Should she kill him? Most of her fellow aurors would disapprove, but it would be rather prudent, in this case. Her wand was trained on him, and the words were on her lips, but she found herself hesitating anyway.

Her instincts suddenly screamed at her, and she threw herself to the floor again as an explosion rocked the street. Her windows shattered, and the sitting room became unrecognizable as debris was scattered all over. She held her breath, waiting for more, but nothing seemed to happen, and she slowly lifted her head. The second attacker was still now, a large shard of glass impaling his chest.

Well, that was… convenient.

Bellatrix stood up, dusted herself off, and Disapparated, reappearing on the sidewalk below her apartment. The street was in a similar state of chaos; lampposts had been completely flattened by the blast, and chunks of stone littered the area. In the center of it all stood a man, who stared directly at her with a very calm gaze. He almost looked as though he was smiling- but his eyes said something very different.

Her heart began racing at an uncontrollable pace, and sweat began collecting in her palms. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she clutched her walnut wand so tightly that she thought it might break. He slowly raised the unique looking wand he held and pointed it at her, now smiling fully.

She knew him all too well- she'd seen his face studying her own too many times to forget.

Before she even had time to register why he himself would be here, Gellert Grindelwald had opened his mouth.

_"Avada"-_

* * *

><p>"Get down!" shouted Lupin, dragging Andromeda to the floor. Three different hexes flew over their heads, and he clambered over to the couch, peering over it. A red haired woman was striding up the front walk, a pleasant smile on her face while she fired Killing Curse after Killing Curse. He nearly swore out loud, but instead focused on firing spells to subdue her, with no luck; she blocked them easily with a lazy flick of her wand. Why now? Why were they being attacked now?<p>

Behind her, he caught a glimpse of the street, and blanched when he noticed how _Pugiles Mortem_ were running rampant, setting fire to houses and chasing the muggles who lived there, laughing. He remembered that Nymphadora had gone to play outside- what if…?

He cut off the thought before he could finish it. There was no time to think about that; the redhead was dueling much more quickly, and he didn't know how long he could keep up. Beside him, Andromeda was doing her best to help, despite the fact that her face was ashen; probably from worry over her daughter.

The red haired woman kept smiling, as though they were merely having a polite conversation instead of dueling. One of her curses hit him, and he went flying backwards, hitting his head on the wall. Ignoring Andromeda's scream, he had to take a moment to recollect his thoughts while his vision recalibrated itself, before blinking in shock as fear ran through him. Andromeda was dueling the redhead with everything she head, looking desperate to get out and search for Nymphadora. He jumped back to her side, shouting, "Protego!" just as a jet of red light flew towards them.

"Remus Lupin, correct?" the woman asked, peering at him carefully before smiling civilly, as though she hadn't just been trying to kill him. "Wonderful to meet you. Zat woman, standing next to you- we need to borrow 'er for a moment."

He didn't reply, except to step forward and to the right, so that he was partially blocking Andromeda from the woman's predatory gaze. Her smile was similar to a shark's, and despite her obvious beauty, she had a coldness in her gaze that few other women could possess. He frowned; he had never seen this particular _Mortis Vindex, _but for some reason she seemed vaguely familiar to him.

"I am so very rude," she said dramatically, her accent emphasizing that point. "I forgot introductions. Well zen- _Je m'appelle Rouge De Sort."_

Oh, he knew that particular name. Rouge De Sort- a Mortis Vindex that had come into existence only recently, quickly gaining fame for her tactics. While he had yet to see her specialty, he had heard unpleasant rumors of it. The woman had a certain allure about her, and he could see why she was quickly gaining a reputation. He wouldn't have been surprised if she soon came to be one of the elite; her dueling skills were nearly beyond his own.

But not quite.

She suddenly whirled around and glared behind her, shouting something in French and causing many of the Pugiles Mortem in the street to turn their heads in confusion. There was a loud crack, and suddenly multiple people appeared in the street, already casting spells at the Dark Lord's followers. De Sort barely got her wand up in time to block a strike from Alastor Moody, her face determined. Remus took this opportunity to flee out the back door, dragging a struggling Andromeda with him.

"Nymphadora!" she screamed, panicking.

"We will look for her!" he shouted, a bit harsh. "But for some reason De Sort is after you, and we need to get you away from her!"

Why had she joined the Alliance? Andromeda was much too gentle- too maternal, too _innocent_, to be fighting alongside the rest of them. A small part of him acknowledged that she probably just wanted to keep her family safe from the terror that Grindelwald was bringing to the world. Still, mostly he believed that she was foolish. Riddle hadn't tried nearly hard enough to warn her about the effects this war could have on her mind, in his opinion.

They moved around the side of the house to the front, where the scene that greeted them was nothing short of disaster: muggles ran about the street, screaming, and aurors and Pugiles Mortem fought furiously. Spells flew in every direction; he felt Andromeda tense in horror as one stray hit a boy who was trying to escape the carnage. He fell, and didn't get up. His stomach twisted, and he felt he would be sick. It never got any easier; at least Riddle had been telling the truth when he said that.

He was about to move out and help when a wild scream made them both freeze.

* * *

><p>Her mind was blank- her jaw was dropped in shock; her wand was pointed uselessly at the ground. She couldn't think or move; she could only wait for the oblivion that death would hopefully provide. Bellatrix saw the faces of her three sisters flash before her, recalling the promise she'd made to 'Dromeda that one day, so long ago. A bitter smile appeared. They hadn't exactly stuck to that, had they?<p>

Grindelwald's outraged cry cut off her thoughts, and her eyes flew open again, to see the back of a wizard in black robes. He and the Dark Lord were dueling so quickly that it was almost impossible to tell which spell came from which side. A furious snake erupted from the newcomer's wand, instantly telling her who he was; it was quickly vanquished by Grindelwald, who retaliated with an incredibly powerful Imperius Curse, which his opponent quickly conjured a shield for. Next thing she knew, all manner of debris was flying in their direction, but soon froze in midair.

The battle of wills that ensued was clear; both men were concentrating furiously, eyes never leaving each other, red on blue. The world appeared to be in a state of suspended animation, and Bellatrix watched with a child-like fascination as the two wizards tried to fight for control of the flying objects. She frowned, trying to get her racing thoughts in order, when everything was thrown back into action again.

Grindelwald won; the other threw up a shield and threw himself backwards, shielding Bellatrix's body with his own while rubble struck the shield with a vengeance. She scowled, not exactly in what she'd call a comfortable position; thankfully, the barrier appeared to be holding, though the Dark Lord was striding forward again, wand out. She had no doubt that he intended to banish the barrier and impale them. Turning her head, she found herself burning under a deep red gaze.

"In over your head, Bella dear?" he hissed in her ear, making her furious.

"Get off me," she snarled fiercely.

Glancing over his shoulder at Grindelwald, who was still advancing as though he hadn't just created a tornado in the middle of the street, he slid off carefully, murmuring, "With pleasure." He brandished his wand, making the Dark Lord pale considerably; suddenly, everything that had been flying around turned to fire, which roared at the blond wizard, rushing at him with full force. She couldn't see Grindelwald, but Tom's face suddenly turned ashen, and he bent over a bit. Abruptly, everything vanished, leaving the street deserted once more.

The Dark Lord was nowhere in sight.

* * *

><p>Narcissa resisted the urge to spit in Dolohov's face- the man had no self respect whatsoever- how dare he address her as such! Beside her, her husband kept a hand on her shoulder, offering silent but much needed support. Drawing herself up to full height, she adopted the position of looking down her nose at Antonin, putting on a fully fledged sneer in an attempt to intimidate him more.<p>

"I demand to know why the Dark Lord wants me as a prisoner. Lucius and I have served him faithfully for years now."

Dolohov shrugged, leering at her. Narcissa raised her chin even higher, ignoring the way her heart stuttered with fear. Being kept under lock and key by Grindelwald never meant anything good; she knew what he had done to her sister. She had seen for herself the pile of misery and forgetfulness that Bellatrix had been reduced to. But she was not about to let it show on her face. For her unborn child's sake, if for nothing else.

She took a step forward, feeling Lucius step with her; he was confronted by the end of Dolohov's wand; the man grinned nastily. "Just Cissy," he stated; she bristled at the use of her nickname. Head held high, she sent Lucius a reassuring look, before following the man out of the chamber.

Durmstrang's corridors were dimly lit by torches held in brackets. She passed the entrance to the dining hall, several classrooms, and that strange symbol that (it was rumored) Grindelwald himself had carved into the walls. The Dark Lord had chosen the school as his fortress, his headquarters, where all reports from the numerous Pugiles Mortem came at one time or another. She and Lucius were permitted to live in this place, mainly because her husband's influence had gained them quite a lot of ground in England.

He led her to a nice enough room- plain, but it was preferable to a Nurmengard prison cell. She allowed herself to feel a bit of relief at that fact, but would not show it on her face. She gingerly sat down on the bed, as though it might burn her. Dolohov slammed the door shut behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts, though not for long.

The door flew open again, and an agitated looking Grindelwald strode in, covered in dust and bleeding from his arm. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she wondered how he had gotten in this state. There were almost no wizards in existence who were capable of even injuring him. Unless he had had a run-in with Tom Riddle… but why would he?

"Narcissa," he said suddenly, clearly trying to reign in his emotions and calm down before turning his blue gaze on her. She couldn't help it; she flinched at the coldness she saw there.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about your eldest sister."

* * *

><p>James felt like he was going to regurgitate right then, as he witnessed something that he'd only heard stories about.<p>

The remaining Pugiles Mortem stood in a circle, wands directed at the aurors, keeping up shield charms as long as they could. In the center stood Rouge De Sort, and screaming on the ground below her was Dorcas Meadowes. Around him, several aurors actually did throw up, horror on their features. He clutched his stomach, suddenly feeling very faint, and only barely registered Lupin and Andromeda approaching on his side. Lupin immediately covered Andromeda's eyes were his hand, staring at Dorcas, a woman who had been their classmate.

It had started at her mouth; it had stretched over her head, out, until her tongue was suddenly where her neck should have been. The more that progress it made, the more that James understood about De Sort's 'specialty': she turned people inside out. It wasn't even dark magic, strictly speaking, just a sick way of using the Turnout Charm. Rouge De Sort was speaking, too softly for them to here, and smiling almost gently while Dorcas was reduced to a pile of… he didn't want to think about it. She soon fell silent after that.

He knew that De Sort did something awful to her victims, but this…

A loud sob interrupted everyone's shock, and suddenly curses were flying through the air once more. De Sort turned and smiled a terrible smile when her eyes landed on Andromeda, and began to walk calmly through the crowd of fighting, intent on her prey. James and Remus instantly focused all of their efforts on her, but she still continued forward, even though he hit her with a curse that should have crushed her ribs.

So intent was she that she didn't notice the slightly mad face that suddenly appeared behind her, along with a pair of burning red orbs. De Sort screamed as she was hit with the Cruciatus Curse, making James blanch; he had known that Bellatrix wasn't against using Unforgivables, but she seemed all too willing to inflict pain on Rouge De Sort. Even as the woman was screaming, she smiled, and Disapparated.

The other Pugiles Mortem, who had panicked at the sight of Tom Riddle in their midst, followed suit, leaving the destroyed avenue in their wake.

* * *

><p>Just before Apparating to where many aurors were confronting the enemy, a Riddle and a Lestrange had an interesting conversation. Bellatrix was not too pleased with her savior, and Tom was exasperated with her for not getting over her school girl grudge. She studied him, having not seen him for a while. He had changed since her departure from Hogwarts; the scarlet eyes were new, and he looked slightly less human than he had before. His gaze was also now significantly colder than it had been before.<p>

She could, however, still see the arrogance.

"You haven't changed," she muttered. At least he still had hair; god forbid that Tom Riddle ever went bald. He was also still handsome, but she would never in a million years admit that out loud. She was careful to avoid eye contact with him, not wanting to give him an opportunity to see into her mind.

"You have," was his reply; had voice ever been that icy before? He appraised her silently, calmly.

"No! Really? I hadn't noticed!" she exclaimed sarcastically, swaying on the spot. Her black eyes glittered with insanity, and for a brief moment her face was transformed into insane glee- then it was gone, replaced by the scowl that he often saw on the face of her cousin. Poor Bellatrix; she was never going to truly recover from her time at Nurmengard, was she?

"You want to tell me what the bloody hell just happened?"

"You were attacked by Grindelwald."

He watched as she restrained herself from flying at him in a rage, before taking in deep breaths to calm herself. Finally she raised her head to meet his eyes, and instantly he was drowning in despair, madness, pain, and regret…

_De Sort smiled. _

_ Grindelwald towered over her, lashing her with the Cruciatus Curse again and again; her throat was raw from screaming... _

_ Andromeda clutched her hand, tears pouring down her face. _

_ She ran through a dark hall, carrying her sister with Narcissa sprinting in front of her. _

_ "Why won't you ever talk to me? You can't say that you don't know me." The lump in the other cell didn't react. _

_ She was laughing and laughing, like the madwoman she was. _

_ She was arguing with him now, merely a student; trying to debate with him. It was a futile prospect. _

He tore through memory after memory, searching for something- anything- that meant that what he had discovered today was true. There was nothing; no indication that it had been she that it had spoken of. There was nothing special about Bellatrix Lestrange.

So why, then? Why not himself?

"Stop it!" shrieked Bellatrix, crumpling to the ground. She shivered uncontrollably, while he stood over her, trying to feel some kind of remorse for making her live through that pain.

He couldn't.

Eventually her breathing steadied, and she stood shakily, not daring to look him in the eye again, for fear that he would break into her mind again. She felt violated, torn apart from the inside. It had all been so sudden. What right did he have to barge into her thoughts like that? He might have been the leader of the Shadow Alliance, but that didn't mean he could do whatever he wanted. Maybe some of what Rita Skeeter had printed about him was true.

Riddle grabbed her arm, but paused for a moment and spun her to look straight into her black gaze again. This time he purposefully chose not to delve back in, but merely held her glare.

"Perhaps," he said softly, ignoring the way she shivered, "You should be glad that I now share you agony. Do not presume that I am unaffected by what I saw."

With that, the two vanished with nothing more than a faint pop.

* * *

><p>Somewhere far away, Frank Longbottom stumbled around, wishing that he still had his eyesight. He didn't understand why Grindelwald had suddenly been shaking him earlier, demanding that he repeated what he'd said. The only problem was that he hadn't said anything, and he only wanted to rest. The feeling of exhaustion had been unexpected, to say the least. He shivered, wishing that the cold couldn't penetrate his very bones.<p>

The sound of the door to his room scraping the stone floor started him, and heavy footsteps made their way inside. He recognized that gait easily enough, and had to wonder what it was Fenrir Greyback intended to do to him this time. Perhaps he had finally been allowed to rip him apart? It didn't matter very much anymore. He ached to see Alice; was she even alive?

But instead of Greyback's rough voice, he heard the cool voice of the Dark Lord. Something was clamped to his arm, making him slightly apprehensive. They had blinded him; maybe they would take his arm next. He shuddered at the thought; Greyback himself had done the gauging before, and it took everything he had to stay alive after that experience.

"Greetings, Longbottom. Bear in mind, today, the usual rule applies. Don't struggle too much, and there won't be more pain than necessary."

He trembled, hating how weak he felt.

Something plunged into his arm.


	4. Chapter 3: Desperate Times Call

Well hello again. Here is chapter three of this story. I apologize if this seems to be building rather quickly, but I need something to keep my writing going. I hope this is satisfying for you all. Another thing: if you're wondering on the name of Grindelwald's followers: Mortis Vindex is Latin for, "Champion of Death". Pugiles Mortem is the plural form of this word. I thought it was poetic, and I couldn't exactly call them Death Eaters. By the way: if there are any characters that you want to see more of, or you think I've forgotten, just mention them; I'm open to suggestions of any kind.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

**Shadow of Light**

**Chapter 3: Desperate Times Call**

Bellatrix winced slightly as she strode down the dark, dimly lit corridor of the Black Manor, each step a painful reminder of the shard of glass that had been wedged in her foot that afternoon. It had taken at least an hour to get 'Dromeda to stop fawning over her in worry, while her father carefully removed the shard and wrapped her foot in pristine, white bandages. The cut had been healed with his magic, but it had been deep enough that she could still feel the sides of the wound scraping against one another roughly. Thankfully her room would have plush carpeting instead of the hardwood she encountered now.

She passed a door that was slightly ajar, pausing and peering inside, seeing one of the lamps lit. The woman in the armchair was beautiful- breathtakingly so- and surprisingly petite. Her slender physique was curled up comfortably, and she appeared to be absorbed in a large volume, her eyes racing across the page while she occasionally gasped in surprise or astonishment at something that was written there. As though she had a sixth sense, she lifted her head, her face breaking out in an angelic smile at the sight of the child huddled in the doorway.

"Bella," she called softly, gently; her voice had always made Bellatrix feel like she was special, like she was the most important girl in the world. A small smile lit up her dark face as she looked at Druella Black- _Mother._ "Won't you come here?"

She almost started forward, but then held herself back reluctantly, gripping the side of the doorframe and looking down at her toes. She wiggled them out of habit, biting her lip before answering.

"Father says I am to go to bed."

Bellatrix looked back up at her mother through half-closed lids. Druella looked thoughtful for a moment, and she took this opportunity to study her mother. Ever since she could remember, she would always find herself memorizing her mother's expressions. She would drink in the sight of her brow furrowed in concentration, or the way her face opened up when she laughed, or the way her eyes tightened ever so slightly when she was in pain. At that moment, her mother had that thinking look on her face- her gaze was slightly upward in thoughtfulness.

At last, she replied, "As long as you're with me, I don't think your father will mind." Reassured by that statement, Bellatrix straightened up and marched over to the armchair, squeezing up on it next to her mother and peering over her shoulder at the book she was reading. A full fledged grin appeared on her face as she instantly recognized the text.

"You're reading this old thing? Again?"

Druella chuckled lightly, draping her arm around Bellatrix so that her daughter could lean her head comfortably against her shoulder and read The Tales of Beedle the Bard alongside her. She had always been fascinated by the Tale of the Three Brothers, which her mother had just begun reading. A powerful wand… a cloak that could hide you… a stone to bring back the dead… such things were fascinating. Mostly, though, what fascinated her the most was the incarnation of Death. How interesting would it be to meet him?

For a while, they sat in companionable silence, with Druella turning the pages when Bellatrix nodded that she was ready. Words were not spoken between the two; they didn't need them. She felt a flush of pride, believing herself to be closer to her mother than both of her sisters. Instantly, though, she felt guilty; she loved Narcissa and Andromeda too, and her mother loved them just as much.

"They say that he has two of them," said Druella, speaking up suddenly, an ashen color on her face. Bellatrix instantly knew that her mother was troubled, and sat back a bit, observing her carefully. Druella's pale hands were trembling where they held the book, and her gaze held a faraway look.

"Mother…"

"He's searched for the third one relentlessly," she murmured, as though Bellatrix had not spoken. "I… I'm afraid… what if he believes that it's in England? What if he comes here? He has the wand… and the stone, but that's irrelevant. The cloak is the most important, the most pure…"

"Mother!" exclaimed Bella, now very afraid. "I- I think I will go to bed now."

Druella shook herself before smiling sadly, a look that made Bellatrix's gut wrench. She wanted to see her mother smiling happily, and be full of life. But, at that moment- breath coming in shorter gasps, the roses in her cheeks fading, and her muscles quaking with sudden exhaustion- Druella Black had never looked so fragile.

* * *

><p>Minerva McGonagall took one look at the headline of the Daily Prophet and buried her face in her hands.<p>

**Grindelwald Strikes Again: Meadowes Struck Down**

Top ranking auror Dorcas Meadowes was killed in another disastrous strike by the Pugiles Mortem, the infamous followers of notorious dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald. While the details of her death have not been released by the aurors, rumor has it that rising Mortis Vindex Rouge De Sort was the one to kill her. The auror office has always been adamant about keeping the public from knowledge of De Sort's methods, though many speculate they couldn't possibly be worse than those of Dietfried Klafski, who is known to many to be Grindelwald's right hand man, up alongside the traitor Lucius Malfoy.

Public discontent at the Ministry's attempts to hide information is growing swiftly. Parents are demanding to know of the dangers their children could be in from followers like De Sort and Klafski. If the aurors don't reveal the dangers such people pose soon, they could very well have a full scale riot on their hands.

"It isn't practical," claimed Caterina Abbott, a soon to be mother whose husband was killed in a recent attack. "We, as parents, have a right to know what we're up against. We need to know what we're protecting our children from."

The mostly muggle neighborhood that had been attacked was the home of witch Andromeda Tonks. Sources say that her only daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, has been classified as missing since the fight. Several Ministry wizards are out searching for her with heavy hearts, as most who disappear these days do not return.

Coincidentally, on that very same day, another attack by Grindelwald himself and several of his followers was made at the apartment of Bellatrix Lestrange, who survived the attack unscathed thanks to the help of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and leader of the Shadow Alliance Tom Riddle. Professor Riddle was heavily injured in the skirmish. Is it truly a mere coincidence that the two sisters were attacked at the same time?

See page 4 for the continuation.

"They've really outdone themselves this time."

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" gasped Minerva, putting a hand to her heart and glaring frostily at the man, who was currently lounging against the wall. At once she straightened in her seat, placing the issue of the Prophet to the side and folding her hands in her lap. Professor Riddle pushed himself off of the wall, making his way over casually.

She raised an expectant eyebrow at him while he approached. She was probably the person the Shadow Alliance who knew him the longest; she'd been one year ahead of him in school, and though they didn't speak much (due to the fact that they were in the two houses with the most animosity), she still saw him quite a bit- mostly at Slug Club meetings. Professor Slughorn had fawned over the two of them very often. Despite all of this, however, she still felt that she didn't know him at all.

"What is it?" she asked curtly.

He put on a hurt expression. "That's all? No, 'Dear me, Tom, how are you? Are you hurt? You must be so brave, taking on that big bad Grindelwald all by yourself'"-

"Any damage to your ego is considered a positive thing," she interrupted wryly. "Now what is it." It was more of a statement than a question.

"You know, I think Severus is beginning to take after you."

"Get to the point, Riddle."

His expression faded, to be replaced by his cold, businesslike look. It would have startled her, had she not seen it at least fifty times before. "Bellatrix Lestrange needs protection, immediately. So does her sister Andromeda, and if there is any way of getting Narcissa Malfoy away from Grindelwald- I don't care if we even have to lock her up in Azkaban- then I need to know about it."

McGonagall frowned. She could already see several problems that would come up from those demands. She knew that Filius was still working with his group to find a way to do Reverse Apparition, which would allow them to pull someone from somewhere else, but it was far from being perfected. Besides, the laws of apparating would still apply, which meant that any barriers would have to be taken into account. Therefore no, she didn't have a way to retrieve Narcissa Malfoy.

And as for keeping Bellatrix and Andromeda safe…

"Where are they now?"

"Here," he answered shortly, beginning to pace her office, his scarlet eyes fixed on a point in front of him. "In the hospital wing, for now. I had to keep Poppy from giving Bellatrix several strengthening potions. That's the extent of how terrible she looks these days. Even so, you and I both know that Grindelwald would not hesitate to attack Hogwarts. Perhaps, in the past, when the old coot was still alive, but not now."

Minerva might have been insulted by what he was insinuating, but she knew that he was speaking the truth, grim as it was.

"How is hiding them going to solve anything?"

"It's worked before," he said without looking at her.

"That isn't what I meant, Tom," she stated firmly, sitting up even further. "You and I both know that Andromeda Tonks would do anything for her daughter. It would drive her mad to have to stay put somewhere instead of searching for Nymphadora. As for Bellatrix, her sanity _is_ questionable. She would most likely wander off just for the sake of it, and not even know where she was going. If you think you can keep her contained…"

He sighed, almost inaudibly. "I know. Of all people, I still can't help but wonder… why her?"

Minerva looked at him. She didn't have an answer to that question.

* * *

><p>Andromeda couldn't look at her.<p>

She sat on the cot in the hospital wing, knees drawn up to her chest as though she were merely a frightened little girl. Her chocolate brown hair was scattered and frizzy while her eyes stared in one direction, surrounded by splotches of red from her silent crying. A single tear still clung to the eyelashes of her left eye, refusing to fall. She was too exhausted to wipe it away, too preoccupied with the fact that the last person she wanted to be in a room with was sitting on an identical cot right next to her. She could feel those black pits on her, unblinking, unnerving. She swallowed, hard, wishing to whatever gods might exist that Bellatrix would just stop staring.

"…Dro-me-da…"

She sounded hesitant, as though she were testing the word out on her tongue, trying to see what its flavor was, whether it was sweet or bitter. Bellatrix seemed to decide it was bitter, because a moment later she spat on the floor. Andromeda heard the sound of the saliva splatter, and the fact that Bellatrix still clung to her pureblood values seemed to embolden her. Ever so slowly, she turned to take in her elder sister.

Almost at once, she had to force away a cringe.

Once upon a time, Bellatrix Lestrange had been a beautiful young woman, with lush black hair and pale skin that seemed to shine. Once upon a time, Bellatrix Lestrange could look at you with eyes that held a million emotions- dark amusement, fiery concern, or tempered happiness. Once upon a time, Bellatrix Black would have told her that it would be alright. Once upon a time, Bella would have fiercely demanded that she help look for Nymphadora…

"Why aren't you dead?" she asked her sister abruptly.

Andromeda was taken aback; whatever question she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that one. Bellatrix's eyes held no concern for her; in fact, they didn't appear to hold anything at all. Looking at them made her feel like she was falling down, down, down… they were slightly sunken, somehow perfectly matching her pallid, stretched skin and the ragged mess of hair. For a moment, her maternal side kicked in; she wanted to insist that Bellatrix stop working for the aurors in this state. She wanted to spoon feed her until she gained her weight back. She wanted to hold her and rub her back soothingly, trying to coax some of the brokenness out of her sister's vulnerable frame.

Didn't it used to be the other way around?

"Bella…" she tried the name, in a similar way to the way her sister had.

"Stop it!" Bellatrix suddenly shrieked, scooting backwards quickly. "Stop it! You have no right… that… don't call me that! What makes you think… I… you're worse than her! Worse than even him! It… why can't you?... 'Dromeda… No! No! I won't! I won't!" She began tugging at her hair furiously, chewing on her lip. A rush of pity filled Andromeda, and she stood, moving and reaching out to her. Bellatrix curled in on herself, raising a hand to fend her off.

"Don't touch me! Filthy blood traitor…"

The words hurt more than she would care to admit. Andromeda flinched, freezing in place while her sister squeezed herself onto the corner of the cot farthest from her, trying to make herself as small as possible. For several minutes, they remained this way- herself hesitant, unsure of whether or not she should ignore what Bellatrix was telling her to do, and Bellatrix with her hands pressed up against her ears, teeth digging into her bottom lip furiously. She watched while a dark drop of red squeezed out, running down the starkly pale skin of her chin.

There was a ringing in Andromeda's ears while her thoughts whirled around her head furiously. _She's only twenty-nine years old… she shouldn't be like this. She should be happy. She shouldn't be fighting with the aurors. She should be in St. Mungo's, healing from what happened to her in Nurmengard… oh god… how could this have happened to her? What did that bastard Grindelwald do to make her like this? Three years…_

The breaking point was when Bellatrix started laughing.

At first, it was a quiet, barely noticeable thing, uncertain and shaky. Soon, however, it grew into an uncontrollable cackle that bounced off the walls, and seemed to echo everywhere- under the cots, in her mind- and she suddenly felt sick with herself, for Bellatrix's sake. Her sister clutched onto the bedside table, howling with mirth, until Poppy Pomfrey bustled out of her office, looking positively harassed.

"What in Merlin's name"- she exclaimed loudly over the laughing, but stopped abruptly at the sight of Bellatrix in her crazed state. Hand trembling, Andromeda fumbled for her wand in her pocket, pulling it out and casting a nonverbal silencing charm over her sister. While Bellatrix continued to convulse, she tried to push down the feeling of guilt; her sister hadn't even noticed. The nurse looked faint, as though she'd never had to deal with a patient that clearly had psychological issues.

The doors to the hospital wing banged open, revealing a disgruntled Professor Riddle sweeping into the room. Not even taking a glance at Bellatrix, he muttered something unintelligible to Poppy before striding quickly over to where they sat. Andromeda quickly grew nervous at the formidable look on his face. Despite being a member of the Shadow Alliance herself, she had never gotten used to seeing it. Quickly, she took off the silencing charm when she noticed that Bellatrix had ceased laughing.

"Bugger off!" she spat at him, glaring.

"Bella…" hissed Andromeda, shocked that she would use such language towards him. Did her sister have a death wish? Maybe his intentions were good, trying to defeat Grindelwald, but that didn't mean he was above anger and impatience.

"It's quite all right, Andromeda," he said, holding up a hand. Turning to Bellatrix, he fixed her with a cold glare that, surprisingly, had very little effect on her sister. Her defiant stare didn't waver once in the face of his disapproval, and Andromeda realized that her sister had never really ceased to loathe Professor Riddle, despite growing up and joining the aurors. Bellatrix hated many people: Narcissa, their father, Riddle, maybe even her…

"Are you going to explain why the hell Grindelwald tried to kill me?" asked Bellatrix. She jumped at the question before shock flooded her; he had done _what?_ Was this why Rouge De Sort had been so intent on capturing her during the raid on her street? Was this why Nymphadora had vanished? Questions were flying in Andromeda's head, while she looked at Professor Riddle for an answer.

"No," he replied curtly.

"Damn you," she hissed through her teeth, black eyes glimmering through her dark hair.

"I'm here to discuss options with you two," he continued smoothly, as though Bellatrix had not spoken. Absently, his nails began tapping on his wand, which had suddenly appeared in his hand as though he expected Bella to jinx him next. "Grindelwald is after the both of you, and please trust me when I say that it's for your own safety that you don't know why. You will need to go into hiding, but I am aware that neither of you will be completely comfortable with this arrangement. So we'll compromise."

Bellatrix snorted.

"The fact is this: Bellatrix is of a higher priority."

Andromeda almost sighed in relief; maybe that meant that she could help search for Nymphadora. Bellatrix was clearly unhappy with this arrangement, looking ready to snarl furiously at him, but he continued on before she could interrupt.

"There aren't many locations where safety from the Dark Lord is guaranteed," he explained, now looking slightly less cold and more similar to the charismatic leader that Andromeda saw during Alliance meetings. She looked over at her sister again to see that she was clutching the bed sheets in gnarled hands, which were white. With a swallow, she looked away again. The silence fell awkwardly before Riddle resumed speaking.

"I had the idea that you, Andromeda, could stay with the Potters," he said, now directing his red eyes at her. "Lily is hiding at the moment due to her pregnancy and the fact that her husband is a rather famous auror. The Fidelius Charm is some of the best protection we have. Minerva is Secret Keeper. I'm also sure that Lily would appreciate any help you could give."

"What about Nymphadora?" The words escaped her in a whisper before she could stop them. Flinching at her own slip-up, she noticed that Bellatrix started muttering under her breath and was hunched over, looking as though she were counting her fingernails. There was a sickening feeling in her gut as she stared at the woman who used to be her sister. She might as well accept it now: Bella was gone. The only thing that remained was the empty shell that was Bellatrix Lestrange.

She didn't miss the fact that Riddle's eyes did not soften with pity when she spoke of her daughter. "We have five different people out searching for her. Will you do what I've suggested?"

Andromeda swallowed; it did sound like a very safe arrangement, even if she'd rather be out there looking. "Yes. I hope Lily won't mind."

"She won't."

"Bellatrix," he said loudly, once again refraining from looking at her. Bellatrix's head snapped up, and her face tightened. "You'll be accompanying me wherever I go."

_"What?"_

At the same time that Bellatrix let out a horrendous, protesting screech, the doors of the infirmary burst open again, this time admitting two boys. The one with mousy brown hair was supporting another boy with ruffled blond hair and… cat ears? He appeared to have a tail too, but other than that he appeared to be normal. The boy helping him seemed to be a sixth or seventh year, while he himself was no more than a first or second. Andromeda felt a rush of curiosity at the sight.

"Oh, heavens, not again!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, rushing forward to help the older boy carry the cat boy to a cot. "Dear Merlin, what has Clarence done this time? If this is another one of his ridiculous experiments…"

"I dunno," muttered the other, frowning slightly. "He just collapsed in the middle of class." He was shifting around on his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable standing there. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with Clarence; in fact, one he hit the bed, he curled up tightly, wrapping his tail around himself. Andromeda felt a strange urge to laugh at how cute he looked in that position. Poppy placed a hand on his forehead, frowning in disapproval, before pulling away and sighing.

"Go back to class, Vaisey. He'll be alright; we'll just have to wait for him to wake up."

Vaisey seemed all too eager to get away from Clarence. He practically ran out of the room, while Poppy retreated back into her office. Andromeda continued to watch the cat boy for a few more moments before turning back to Tom. Bellatrix hadn't even paid attention to the commotion, opting instead to repeatedly shoot silent hexes at Riddle, who was lazily deflecting them with his wand while he too studied the newest patient.

"Ah, poor Clarence," he murmured quietly, smiling slightly. Startled, Andromeda recalled that he was still teaching here, and realized that he would know this strange student. "The boy doesn't know when to give up, does he?"

* * *

><p>"Good morning Amelia," he all but sang, prompting his strict boss to shoot him a wry look.<p>

"Is it?" she asked, gesturing out the window next to her, where the rain poured down in buckets. The sky was a grim dark gray, enough to plunge even the most cheerful chap into misery. Sirius, however, was more than cheerful; he was elated. No amount of bad weather would even be capable of bringing down his spirits, no matter how it tried. Had he been a small girl, he might have even skipped around his desk a few times before sitting down.

His mood was mainly due to the fact that he had just found out that Bellatrix and Tom Riddle- two of his least favorite people (not counting Grindelwald or any of his followers) were going to be stuck with one another as long as the Dark Lord proved to be after his cousin. The thought of how the two would probably drive each other crazy within a matter of minutes made him rub his hands together in glee and almost laugh out loud. Of course, Amelia being Amelia, she had to spoil it almost at once.

"We're going to have to retreat from Warsaw."

It was as though someone had dropped an ice cube down his back; the effect was instantaneous. He turned slowly to take in Bones' hawk-like gaze and felt like someone had just dropped a bomb on his head. Warsaw was one of the longest ongoing battles that had been occurring in the war- as a matter of fact, last Thursday had been the three-month anniversary of its inception. Neither side ever gave; one moment it seemed that they were on the edge of victory, but the next thing they knew, Grindelwald's forces would regroup and launch a counterattack. He'd been hoping that, with the new Japanese allies they had thanks to Riddle, they might finally pull a victory in the Polish city.

"Why?"

In a deadened voice, Amelia replied, "We lost Kowalski last night."

* * *

><p>A man was slumped beneath a window, covered in dust.<p>

At first glance, he would appear to be sleeping. However, if one were to examine him closer, they would have found that his breathing was a tad too erratic for him to simply be in slumber. His eyes were fluttering about beneath his lids, and his hand twitched as it curled around the wand in his grasp. He didn't move apart from that, opting to simply hold as still as possible to avoid detection from the group of wizards arguing in a language he couldn't comprehend outside.

Several feet away from him, in a similar position, was a twitchy young man whose eyes were wide open and flickering desperately from side to side. As the argument outside rose to shouting, the first man's lids snapped up, and he quickly glanced to both sides. Meeting the gaze of the young man, he gave a quick nod.

In unison, both of them jumped up and cast a number of silent curses on the group of wizards. Among these curses were several green flashes; those that were hit dropped to the ground like stones. The rest immediately returned fire, prompting both men to throw themselves to the floor as the already smashed in windows received even more of a beating. John Dawlish flung himself upwards, casting a shield charm before ducking back down again. Beside him, Bartemius Crouch Junior held his breath.

_"Deuseldo!"_

A stream of yellow light shattered the Shield Charm, and both had to roll over when it disintegrated the wall they had taken refuge behind. Dawlish aimed his wand out of another window, aiming at a Mortis Vindex who seemed intent on toppling the entire building over. _"Shatrixia!"_

His opponent howled as both of his shins splintered, and he crumpled, his scarlet robes spilling over the pavement like blood. Dawlish just barely managed to dodge a killing curse, and saw that Barty succeeded in felling another with what looked like a simple Stunning spell. More Pugiles Mortem were beginning to join their comrades in the street, and he signaled for the two of them to retreat for now. Together, they scampered out of the building, hurrying through the maze of alleys that sprawled all over the city of Warsaw, Poland.

He and his protégé both felt the heavy weight of despair upon them, which had been in place ever since Jack Kowalski had been hit by a stray Killing Curse the previous evening. Dawlish hadn't been able to even get near him when he went down; he'd been preoccupied with a certain Rodolphus Lestrange at the time. It had been a disaster, to say the least; the man had been their leader, their rallying point, and now he was dead and gone. Emmeline Vance was doing her best, but it probably wouldn't be enough.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly, when they hurried into the underground parking garage that was their refuge. Another group was just leaving to re-enter the fray, and he proceeded to explain quickly.

"It was a success; we managed to hit at least six before we had to retreat. Barty here did an excellent job of remaining vigilant." He noticed the way his protégé puffed out his chest proud at the mention of him.

Emmeline nodded, clearly relieved. "That's good, good work." As usual, she seemed distracted, most likely by worry over how her forces were doing. Guilt for not being able to help her underlings ate away at her more visibly than it had her predecessor. Dawlish felt a rush of pity for Vance, realizing that she carried the entire weight of the operation on her shoulders. It would be no mean feat to prevent Grindelwald's forces from taking the city. They had gotten as many muggles out as they could along the way, but for now it was all they could do just to keep their hideout a secret.

"They're coming!" came a sudden scream, and all three of them whirled around to see one of their French allies racing towards them, looking panicked. "The wards have come down! They're coming!"

Dawlish swore loudly; Emmeline began shouting frantic instructions to those still remaining, and several were already Disapparating out of the building. The city had had Anti-Apparition wards around it for ages in order to keep the battle contained, but Grindelwald's forces had finally managed to break through them. There were still groups out there that need to be warned, but already message Patronuses were shooting away. The building rumbled, and, after Emmeline's nod, he grabbed Barty and turned on the spot.

Everything was happening so fast, and none of them could keep up.

* * *

><p>"On the other hand, it'll be ready soon," said Amelia, a hint of deviousness appearing in her eyes. Sirius blinked; he rarely saw that coming from her.<p>

"What will?"

"Plan Zeta."

A satisfied grin appeared on his face.

* * *

><p>Even as Warsaw finally fell to Grindelwald, other aurors across the continent were mobilizing, preparing for the inevitable event. Perhaps, after this day, they would finally gain something of an upper hand in this war. Hope still blazed forth, even as Pugiles Mortem stormed through the Polish city, razing the streets and laughing as they exterminated muggles. The aurors hadn't fallen to despair yet, even when Rouge De Sort knelt in front of her master, smiling her shark smile, and bowed her head in assent to the task he had given her.<p>

* * *

><p>Bellatrix was hard-pressed to keep up with Riddle's long strides. They marched up the mountain path together, heading to a location that he refused to disclose to her. He had turned a deaf ear to her protests of following him everywhere he went, but even she had to acknowledge (albeit reluctantly) that there wasn't really a safer place for her. They were somewhere in Italy, heading through mountains that looked as though they hadn't seen a living creature in years. At least she was finally away from her blood traitor sister now.<p>

"Ah, Tom," came the voice of a woman from the trees next to them. "So glad that you could make it."

A girl stepped out; she was unusually regal looking, despite being dressed in a simple Japanese kimono. Bellatrix frowned to herself, thinking that the girl looked rather frail. Whoever she was, she froze at the sight of her, eyes glancing warily over at Riddle.

"She will be guarding me from now on," he explained, gesturing carelessly towards Bellatrix. She bristled at being labeled as a bodyguard before recalling that that was their cover story for the moment. Rocking back on her heels, she settled with glaring at the girl in front of her.

"If you say so," said the girl dubiously. "Are we ready for Plan Zeta?"

Bellatrix glanced over at Riddle warily, noticing the freezing smile that slowly grew over his face.

"Of course."


	5. Chapter 4: The Living Will Fill

Author's note: Finally! I've been plagued by band rehearsals for two weeks, so sorry for the late update. I was originally going to have Plan Zeta take place in one chapter, but I'm quickly discovering that that isn't going to be happening. For those of you confused by the flashbacks, I'll be putting them in italics from now on, and I'll fix the other chapters too, hopefully soon. I have also suddenly become a Sweenett fan, but I don't think I could capture Mrs. Lovett very well, so I won't be writing any fics on the pairing. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; J.K. Rowling does.

**Shadow of Light**

**Chapter 4: The Living Will Fill These Coffins**

_The group was crouched in the shadows; the darkness served as an excellent cover for them. Eight pairs of eyes peered out, surprisingly bright in the gloom. A figure robed in red hobbled past, hunched over and swiveling his head about. He did not see them, which was just as well; it was crucial that they be invisible that night. _

_ The medieval castle in front of them wasn't as large or grand as Hogwarts, nor did it hold the same kind of mystical air that the school was so well known for. Yet it appeared to be almost as populated as Hogwarts was for the duration of term. Scarlet clad figures were stalking all over the grounds, keeping an eye out for intruders such as the ones who were crouched by the undergrowth, praying that their Disillusionment charms held themselves. One was a little farther in front of the others, a bit separated, distinguishing himself as the leader. The most distinctive thing about this hulking man was the electric blue iris that almost seemed to glow as it spun around constantly. _

_ Another Mortis Vindex made their round, but suddenly collapsed and was dragged back by an invisible force. A moment later, someone reemerged dressed in his blood red cloak and joined the circle of Pugiles Mortem wandering around the perimeter of the castle. Their figure was a far more slender one than that of the cloak's true owner, but no one made any move to halt her or examine her. Surreptitiously, she glanced around her, before allowing a small object to drop from her hand. _

_ A moment later, there was a loud bang, and shouts of alarm rang out through the courtyard. Pugiles Mortem raced towards the source of the noise, where a large cloud of brown haze was quickly spreading out from. As it was, no one noticed the ripples in the air where seven barely distinctive figures trailed her as they entered the castle carefully. The woman's heart was thudding painfully in her chest, but she paid it no heed, striding purposefully through the front doors as though she had every right to be there. One would think that security measures might have been tighter, but at that point in time the Dark Lord's forces were so numerous and diverse that it was almost impossible to find something that they all had in common that could be used as an identifying factor. The aurors fully intended to use this to their advantage. _

_ Out of sheer habit and paranoia, none of the infiltrators removed their magical concealment. The woman kept walking as though she had not just caused chaos just outside the door, heeding the hissed instructions from the leader. She had no doubt that, though it was no longer visible, his blue eye was still whirling around in his head, taking in every little detail around them. _

_ The group became more and more jumpy as they proceeded deeper into the castle. Only the woman in front managed to not jump as a bat soared overhead. It was a miracle that they hadn't encountered any Pugiles Mortem as of yet; even the woman was beginning to be suspicious. The blood in their veins had been taught to expect anything to go wrong, and none of them were optimistic enough to believe that perhaps they were simply more successful than usual. _

_ The dungeons were laid out in a straightforward manner; it was merely a long hallway, cells lining either side. Most of them were vacant, as the majority of Grindelwald's prisoners were held at Nurmengard, but there was one that was three down from the end that held a moaning figure in it. The woman didn't hesitate to stun the guard at the doorway to the corridor, dragging him along with her in a surprisingly strong grip. She yanked the keys off of his belt, unlocking the door and glancing both ways before proceeding inside. They had timed it perfectly so that the last shift had just ended; no one would be coming to check for ages. _

_ The woman looked back at her companions, where the leader had just shed his Disillusionment Charm and had entered the cell behind her. He grasped the prisoner by the collar and proceeded to slap him, none too gently. "Wake up, Crouch!" he growled, his blue eyes still swiveling about in his nervousness. Crouch blinked slowly in response, but nothing came out of his mouth aside from garbled nonsense. The woman suppressed an exasperated sigh. _

_ After dragging Barty Crouch Senior from his cell, the group turned, knowing that getting out was going to be far more complicated than getting in had been. Before any of them could move, however, the woman felt her danger sense scream at her, and she whirled around, throwing up a shield just in time to block a flash of gray. Ten Pugiles Mortem poured through the door at the end of the hallway, clearly having no reservations about the well-being of their prisoner. The woman's red hood flew off, revealing wild dark hair and glittering black eyes. She fell into the dueling dance with practiced ease, shooting curses with a deadly grace alongside the rest of the aurors. _

_ "Scatter!" shouted Moody over the sound of spells flying. "I don't care how, but we need to get the hell out of here! Remember the pairs I assigned you!"_

_ The group began backing the way they'd come, praying that there weren't any Pugiles Mortem in that direction. There was one, but he was quickly hit by a stray spell from his own comrade. Bellatrix was the last through the door, and proceeded to grab Crouch's son and take the right fork. The two of them sprinted through the corridors; she doused any torches they came across as they went along. Had the Pugiles Mortem known they were coming, or had they just gotten lucky? She decided it was the former, as they hadn't even bothered to block their exit. _

_ Barty stumbled, and she tugged him up without breaking her pace. A wave of cold filled the air, and her danger senses screamed again. She knew exactly what such temperatures meant, and reacted at once. _

"Expecto Patronum!"

_ Beside her, she could hear Barty fumbling with his voice to do the same; the memory of being inducted into the aurors was enough for her to produce a flickering imitation of a swan, which soared through the air towards the dementors behind them, driving them back momentarily. After several tries, Barty conjured up his own Patronus, a weak looking terrier that silently circled them restlessly. Their backs hit another wall, and they took the left fork this time. As they approached a window, Bellatrix noticed that one pair had already made it beyond the Anti-Apparition wards, using their Disillusionment charms to their advantage. She considered using them on her and Barty, but the pursuit of their enemies caused her to discard this as nigh on impossible. _

_ As they turned the next corner, they found their path blocked by a tall figure, who swept towards them quite calmly, his blond hair and blue eyes easily recognizable. She froze, feeling true fear even through her battle-crazed senses. Beside her, Barty tensed up visibly, even as the dementors drifted closer behind them. Her Patronus fizzled out at the sight of their greatest enemy, as did his. _

_ Bellatrix thought fast. They were next to one of the outer walls; it was on her left. Barty also happened to be on her left. _

_ "Good evening," said Grindelwald amiably, his blue eyes glimmering dangerously. "I must say I was surprised by the uninvited guests I had. It's so very rude of you to kidnap one of my friends. I'd wager"-_

"Reducto!" _screamed Bellatrix, aiming her wand at the wall. _"Impedimenta!"

_The first spell blew apart the stones, and a heavy breeze rushed into the corridor. The second threw Barty into the opening, and he plummeted out of sight into the darkness. Bellatrix hoped that he would have enough sense to stop his descent with magic, and tried not to feel guilty about possibly sending him to his death, but she had more pressing matters on her mind. _

_ Grimly, she raised her wand, knowing all the while that it was a futile attempt._

* * *

><p>The stars were twinkling high in the sky that night. There was a glass of hot cocoa in her hands, and the company was more comfort than she could ever hope for, yet there didn't seem to be anything that could dispel the growing knot of worry in the pit of her stomach. Lily Potter's hands were trembling, even as her new companion reached out and gently gave one a squeeze, putting all of her silent support into it. It still didn't stop her from desperately wishing that James was there too, and not gallivanting off on what was probably the most important mission since the start of England's involvement in the war.<p>

Lily and James had been living in Godric's Hollow for quite some time, since the start of her pregnancy. She knew that the baby would probably be coming any day now, and even though she desperately wanted James there with her, she also knew that the war had become the main priority.

Growing up with James had made her think that he was the biggest prat in the school- him and Sirius Black, who thought they were oh-so cool with all of their pranks. How she had despised him, thought of him as nothing more than a bully who saw himself as being larger than life. And yet, as he grew up, he had proved her wrong time and time again with surprisingly selfless acts, and had been the perfect (if not slightly devious) gentleman on their first date together. Now, as a member of the Shadow Alliance and practically an unofficial order, he was preparing for the imminent Plan Zeta that would take place soon. She wasn't aware of all the details, but she did know that it involved infiltrating the French Ministry of Magic, one of the Dark Lord's main power strongholds.

"Lily?" Andromeda's gentle voice brought her out of her stupor, causing her to snap up her head and look at the woman who sat at the table across from her in Lily's small kitchen. Dark circles were imprinted beneath the woman's blue eyes, and she knew that they were from the past few sleepless nights that Andromeda had been through. There was still no sign of Nymphadora, and if Lily herself felt sick just thinking about it, then she couldn't even imagine what Andromeda must be going through. Was it just her imagination, or did the woman already look thinner than she had when she'd arrived?

Lily and James had been surprised, but pleasantly so, when Riddle came and asked if it would be alright if they allowed Andromeda to stay with them for a time. Lily's heart had gone out to her at the sight of the woman who, despite looking remarkably similar to her older sister, had such a forlorn look on her face. Bellatrix had been there too, and she couldn't help but feel relieved when Riddle had not requested the same for the Auror. Instead, he and Bellatrix simply left, causing Lily to wonder why Tom was suddenly towing her along; she was under the impression that he held a large dislike for Mrs. Lestrange.

Brought back to the present by a yelp (Andromeda had spilled cocoa on her hands), Lily suppressed the urge to sigh. How she longed to be out there, playing a part in Plan Zeta- but then she remembered the baby that was coming, and felt a rush of determination. Her responsibility was first and foremost to her child.

That was something she would never, ever forget.

* * *

><p>There were few buildings in the world that are the prime example of outstanding architecture, but the Louvre in Paris was, without a doubt, one of them. The glass pyramid in front had never failed to awe any visitors, and the small group of four heading around to the back of it was no exception- well, except for one, that is.<p>

It took all of Sirius' concentration not to snicker at the sight of muggles ogling the art museum. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that he probably shouldn't really be joking around at this point, but he was feeling slightly hysterical. True, not everything was riding on Plan Zeta, but if it failed, then it would fail spectacularly- which was not something to be desired. So he really shouldn't have been feeling inclined to laugh, but at that point, it seemed that laughing was all he could do to stay calm.

The four of them- he, Rufus Scrimgeour, Hestia Jones, and a young Spanish wizard named Hernando Picadillo- were currently in a line of French wizards, all striding around to the back of the glass pyramid. They all wore the fake identities that Polyjuice Potion could provide them with; he himself was a wizard by the name of Francois Bellevoir. Not really a name that he would choose for himself, but the look on Mad-Eye's face had brooked no argument. From what he knew, Bellevoir was a member of the French equivalent of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, which was currently headed by Mortis Vindex Heinrich Herstann.

The plan was extremely precarious. No single person knew all the details; in fact, each person knew very little about what other parties would be doing for the duration of the mission. Sirius himself only knew that he would be stationed in or near the office of Herstann. As he himself was a Portkey, several other aurors would appear in the room with him at approximately 8:07 AM, prepared to take out the Mortis Vindex at the head of the department. Similar events would occur with Rufus, Hestia, and Hernando. All of them had been placed strategically close to known Pugiles Mortem.

He also knew, from what Amelia had hinted at, that that wasn't even close to half of the plan.

* * *

><p>Empress Haruka Miyamori watched Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle with a practiced eye. Normally, she wouldn't even bother observing anyone outside of her own subjects, but she was curious as to the purpose of Mrs. Lestrange. Riddle had not mentioned her when he outlined the part that Haruka was to play in Plan Zeta, and he certainly hadn't been preoccupied, like he was now. Bellatrix herself had wandered over to the spell practicing area, and was firing off a stream of hexes so quickly that it made several of her own samurai turn their heads in surprise.<p>

They still had approximately an hour before the signal was scheduled to come. Riddle wandered up beside her; she didn't bother glancing at him, merely continued looking over the fighters that she'd brought with her, hands clasped behind her back. Her two guards were doing an excellent job of staying out of sight, like they were supposed to, but she felt the sudden cold feeling on her wrist.

Ah. They thought she was in danger from Riddle. Casually, she pressed the tip of her forefinger to her wrist, letting them know that it was alright.

"Your guardians don't think very highly of me," said Riddle, sounding more amused than anything else. It did not come as a surprise that he knew of their presence. His burning red eyes swept over her forces, both eyebrows raising up. "I'm impressed. You still came, though I heard that "someone" attempted to assassinate you at least three times after our negotiations came to an end. In all honesty, I expected Grindelwald to be a little more subtle."

"You're mistaken," replied Haruka dryly. "The assassination attempts were performed by my father's aurors." She'd been expecting it; he was showing signs of siding with Grindelwald, and had used several different strategies to escape death. The first had been done simply by ordering one of her servants to carry a bezoar with them and follow her wherever she went; it was soon needed for shoving down her throat after she ingested poisoned tea. The culprit was caught; she had recognized him as one of her father's closest advisors in China.

The second had been slightly more predictable. It was the monthly public address that her duties required her to give; one of the crowd members had attempted to shoot a killing curse at her. She had side-stepped it smoothly and used wandless magic to incapacitate the perpetrator by throwing him against the wall. That simple display had put her people in awe of her. It almost made her laugh harshly. They didn't have a clue how she'd been raised.

Discovering that he had a female heir had shocked her father to no end. She supposed she could understand why; the heir to the Miyamori clan had been male for many generations out of pure luck, but if a female was born, then so be it. She was to be raised in the same way any heir would be, and would one day take the throne. Her mother had been all too willing to do so, and while she could be strict, Haruka attributed her survival skills to her. Her father, on the other hand, always treated her coldly- like a mere servant. The elders had been adamant that she receive proper schooling, and he had to acquiesce to their requests, so she soon began learning about both magic and politics.

The one thing that her father had impressed into her mind was control. Control was everything; it gave you power, it gave you patience… it had allowed her to use wandless magic. She always kept her magic wrapped around her, like a blanket, keeping it close and only lashing out with it when strictly necessary. Control was everything. When she turned eleven, she received a wand, a began to learn more spells and theory.

Needless to say, it was a very different system to that which Britain used.

And Bellatrix Lestrange was the furthest from control of anyone she had ever seen.

The third attempt? Well, she'd used a decoy. Not the most moral of methods, but she survived. That had to count for something.

The way Bellatrix was casually blasting away targets suggested that she had always been the spontaneous type. Plan Zeta was fragile, precarious; someone like her should not have been with them, but if Tom insisted, there was little she could do to change his mind. He chuckled to himself beside her, as though he was aware of what she was thinking. She cocked her head to the side so that she could look at him, aware of how very childish she looked at that moment.

"You disagree?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, not at all," he replied lightly. "It's more of a necessity than anything else. Try to understand."

"I'll do my best, Professor Riddle."

* * *

><p>Two hooded figures stood in the passageway, each one holding an arm of a young, dull-eyed woman between them. They were arguing fiercely, while she showed no sign of taking notice of either of them.<p>

"I'm tellin' ya, they said to leave 'er 'ere," one of them whispered harshly.

"You truly are an idiot," replied the other, snorting. "If we leave her here, they will be absolutely furious. One of the only successes, in the hands of the enemy? It will spell disaster for us all."

His companion merely rolled his eyes and leered at the woman, who didn't react. Her green eyes appeared to be those of a dead person, staring sightlessly ahead of her while she swayed on her feet. Her long, blond hair trailed behind her back, glinting faintly in the torchlight, and her simple gray cloak hung limply over her shoulders.

Footsteps and voices echoed farther down the corridors. Swearing violently, the men released the woman and scurried away. The French workers gave her odd looks as they passed by, but for the most part they merely shrugged and moved on. Stranger things had roamed the halls of their Ministry; as they walked away, they recounted the time that a komodo dragon had once stalked the Head of the Department of Magical Catastrophes, asking him trivia questions…

The woman only stood there. Slowly, she began walking.

* * *

><p>The French Ministry of Magic did not have an atrium. They had an entire freaking courtyard.<p>

Fountains containing elaborate statues gurgled up water into clear, small pools, neatly arranged flowers lined the paths, arches lined with ivy dotted the place, and glittering lights flittered about. Overall, the sight almost made him want to gape and gag at the same time, although the French wizards didn't seem at all bothered by it. They didn't even look at the frilly display, keeping their eyes fixed on their destinations- which appeared to be old, elegant carts leading to wherever their workplaces were.

Was there a ceiling? Was the enchantment the same as the one in the Great Hall of Hogwarts? Questions were running unbidden through Sirius' head as he struggled not to be distracted by the unusual setting. The others in his faction had already split, following their separate paths to their targets. He straightened his back, trying to look as though he knew exactly what he was doing.

He had to tell himself that he did. They'd gone over the plan a ridiculous amount of times, and yet he still felt that his confidence was shaky. And he'd thought that Amelia was being paranoid, but now he was grateful that she'd forced him to memorize the layout of the Ministry. He would have been completely lost had he not. Even so, his heart was thudding against his ribcage, and he feared that anyone looking at him would realize that he was not who he seemed.

Francois Bellevoir. 36 year old unmarried man. Rather skimpy mustache and goatee. Mousy, curly hair. Skin that was breaking out along the arms. Wore dirty brown robes to work every day without fail, along with scuffed up leather boots. Had a high-pitched, girlish laugh. Dug his nails into his wrist when frustrated. Had notoriously bad eyesight, but refused to get it treated for an unknown reason. Walked with his shoulders maligned. Wheezed from running too much. Had a habit of picking dirt out of his toenails with his fingers…

He wasn't sure that he wanted to know how Amelia found _that_ out.

The point was, he knew everything there was to know about the man he was impersonating. And yet he had to suppress a flinch every time someone looked at him.

He clambered ungainly into the cart, noting that a very overweight witched sat across from him, wearing robes several sizes too small. He wanted to wince at the sight, but contented himself to turn to look at the scenes whizzing by. They were passing by lavishly decorated offices, all of whom had a personal touch of the witch or wizard who worked in them. The cart slid smoothly to a stop, admitting the fat witch to an area with many different cubicles. He watched as she struggled to fit inside one before the cart moved on again.

The next time it halted, he jumped up from his seat, eager to get a move on. Bellevoir's workplace was cut off from the passage by a black door decorated with gold trimmings. Swallowing his nerves, he pushed it open, making his way inside.

The office was surprisingly plain; he deduced that his German superior was not very fond of the extravagance that the French used when polishing up their workplaces. There were several desks lined up in an orderly fashion; he strode over to his own, which had a plain black nameplate on it. Herstann's office was separated from the others by another door, which had his title and name printed on it. He sank slowly into the hard, wooden chair, staring down at the papers on the desk, not really reading them.

He knew a little French, due to his pureblood origins, but not much. According to his schedule, Herstann should have been coming back from another cup of coffee soon. Sirius' palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his trousers out of habit- then, because of the personality description, he dug his nails into his wrist, trying to convey to his fellow workers that he was frustrated rather than anxious. No one took any notice.

His eyes flickered over to the clock. 7:46.

So, Herstann was one minute late. He tried to tell himself that that was all, that he was just being paranoid, because there was no way that the Mortis Vindex could know. They had been so utterly careful not to let anyone- _anyone_- (not even the great Tom Riddle) in on the entire plan, even though Riddle had been the one to design much of it. None of these thoughts were any comfort to him, and did nothing to stop the desperate gasps that were escaping him with each passing second.

The door opened.

In stepped a blank-eyed woman, who looked as though she didn't have a clue as to where she was going. Several bemused stares were sent in her direction; it was clear that no one knew what she was doing there. Slowly she wandered off to the side, and many only shrugged and went back to their work.

Sirius frowned. Something wasn't right about her.

The door flew into the wall, this time making several people jump in their seats.

He nearly swore out loud.

Severus Snape swept inside.

* * *

><p>A wailing noise filled the large cave; Bellatrix could barely register it before Riddle grabbed her arm, and there was nothing but something squeezing around her chest. She was suffocating, trying to understand why this apparition was so unusually painful for her.<p>

He relinquished her, allowing her to collapse to the stone floor of wherever they were, and spoke.

"Good morning, Minister Lorquestre."

A man with a ridiculously large mustache jumped up from his seat, sputtering in indignant French. Bellatrix wheezed, straightened, and took in the sights around her for the first time. Something in the pit of her was aching as it never had before, and she struggled to stand, placing one hand to her abdomen and wondering where in the hell they were.

The realization hit her like a slap in the face.

The French Ministry of Magic. Plan Zeta.

Wasn't her role supposed to be helping to infiltrate Nurmengard? So why was she here?

The surprisingly sane thoughts entered her head, while darker thoughts spun through her mind, and she suddenly had to suppress the urge to Crucio the living daylights out of Riddle. Where the murderous intent came from, she wasn't entirely sure, but she had had enough of being deceived. The footsteps in the corridor behind her told her that the Japanese wizards had apparated along with them, and were acting as guards while they were here.

Riddle flicked his wand towards the door behind them and swirled around to face the man again, folding his long, pale fingers in front of him and piercing Lorquestre with his red gaze. Bellatrix looked between the two of them, noting how the Minister's face drained of color at the sight of Tom. She tried to ignore the gnawing pain, but it only seemed to grow. She would not cry. She would not cry. She wouldn't.

She had managed not to after reuniting with Andromeda, after all.

Riddle's smile was cold.

"I would be ever so pleased if you would consent to questioning, Minister Lorquestre," he said cordially, taking a single step forwards. The Minister took this as a cue to squeeze himself further into his chair, the fearful look in his eyes only growing as he switched to faintly accented English.

"I know nothing!" he whispered. "I swear it…"

"Lies. Bellatrix, since you are so obviously dying to cause me pain right now, would you please deign to perform the Cruciatus Curse on this man?"

Bellatrix realized why Riddle had flicked his wand at the doorway. He had placed a Silencing Charm on the door, knowing that he would have to use less than honorable methods in order to get his information from the man. Of course, it wouldn't do to have any of their Japanese allies finding out about this. Only hesitating a moment, she shouted the spell.

The man was clearly not used to pain. As she watched him writhing around in his chair, she felt giddiness grow inside her, and a cackle escaped her that seemed to synchronize perfectly with his agonized screams. The tortuous look on his face was like the medicine she'd needed for months now, and satisfaction welled up inside her as she punished him for being on the wrong side. In the back of her mind, something registered a third voice trying to speak to her, and told her that she was only stooping to the level of the enemy who did this. Who cared? It felt _good, _it must have been right- she was drowning in laughter…

His touch scalded her arm. Something stung in her face.

"You are far too practiced in the methods of torture," he whispered quietly, yet it seemed to echo through the walls of her skull. "What else happened to you in prison?"

Bellatrix's breath hitched- he was much too close for her liking, but this was the perfect opportunity. She could easily get him in the balls if she wanted to- oh this was just _too_ good-

He moved away before she got the chance, and reality finally crashed fully around her.

Minister Lorquestre was on the floor, trembling and sobbing to himself. She blinked, realizing that she must have held him under her wand for several minutes at least, and that Riddle had been attempting to get her to stop. A mixture of disappointment and revulsion swept through her- disappointment that it was over, revulsion that she had taken pleasure in torturing another. That was something that Pugiles Mortem did, not aurors like herself.

Suddenly, she had the urge to wash her hands.

Riddle was speaking, softly. "I'll ask you again, for anything that Grindelwald has told you."

At first, Lorquestre only stared at them, the fear in his eyes expanding onto his face, until tears bled out onto his cheeks. A rasping whisper escaped his mouth.

"There are far worse things to fear…" he hissed, teeth clenched in pain, "Than you, Professor Riddle, and your lapdog."

_Bang!_

Bellatrix and Riddle were blasted off of their feet, and something splattered her face. A scream escaped her as she realized what it was. There was nothing left of the Minister, except a pool of blood and several scraps of flesh. The door flew opened, and Haruka stormed in, her face remaining blank even as she surveyed the carnage. Riddle looked furious, but he quickly composed himself, and met Empress Miyamori's black stare calmly.

She cleared her throat. "I'm not going to jump to conclusions, Professor Riddle, but I will want an explanation."

"You shall have it," he replied, his voice neutral. "Now, we merely move on to the next part of the plan."

As the three of them made their way towards the door, they all hit the ground as their heads exploded in pain.

* * *

><p>Rufus Scrimgeour had always been one to keep a pessimistic outlook, but even he hadn't been ready when, instead of the French equivalent of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Lucius Malfoy strode into the room, followed by his wife, Narcissa Malfoy. He kept his eyes away from them most of the time, sneaking only the occasional glance, like many of the other workers were doing. Inside, however, he was only barely able to push down the panic that threatened to overtake him.<p>

This wasn't right.

He gripped his wand tightly in his right hand, holding it out of sight under the desk. If Malfoy knew that something was wrong, then most likely he'd know which of the workers was the imposter. This was very, very bad, but at the same time it presented a wonderful opportunity. If he was careful enough, then he could end the threat that the Malfoys carried.

However, he was distracted by something else that they carried too.

Narcissa was trembling; her expression was haughty, and she drew herself up to full height, but he could tell that she was shaking slightly. Her stomach was swollen with an unborn child, and her skin was unusually pale, and that made up his mind for him.

Would he orphan a child for the sake of the war? Perhaps, but the way that Narcissa attempted to conceal her terror was what ultimately did him in.

He ducked as a Killing Curse sailed towards him from the end of Lucius' wand.

All hell broke loose.

* * *

><p>"Protego!" hollered Sirius desperately, feeling his Portkey activate. Damn it, this was the worst possible time, when he had Snape and several other scarlet cloaked assailants bearing down on him-<p>

_"What the bloody hell is going on here?"_ roared a certain grizzly haired wizard with a distinctive blue eye.

Sirius had rarely been happier to see Mad-Eye, except for the time when he'd been strung upside down by vampires who had been considering dunking him into a Port-a-Potty for the fun of it. He shouted another Shield Charm, noting that Moody had already taken down a Mortis Vindex with a well-placed stunner. On his other side, Quentis Barnabas was shooting off a stream of hexes, bellowing enthusiastically. Dawlish and Crouch Jr. were behind them, covering their backs while French workers scattered, some choosing sides in the fight, while others simply fled to escape the violence.

Mad-Eye swore violently when a woman with flaming hair all but pushed Snape out of the way, a sadistic smile on her face.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Black!" she called, still somehow managing to sound pleasant and yet be heard over the ruckus. "You wouldn't 'appen to know ze whereabouts of your cousin, now would you?"

Sirius was about to yell a mocking answer when someone screamed.

The only problem was that it wasn't a normal scream. Everyone in the room suddenly fell to the floor, hands clasped over their ears, eyes rolling into the back of their heads as they tried to block out the appalling noise. Moody's eye was spinning so rapidly that it could've been a top, and even the Pugiles Mortem looked surprised at the sudden sound. Rouge De Sort was screaming herself, judging by the way her mouth was open and her eyes were wide.

The only person not curled into a fetal position was the blond, blank-eyed woman who'd entered earlier. Even as he forced his eyes back open, he saw her walking, transfixed, her mouth open in a gaping hole. Like a zombie, she began walking towards the door, not even noticing what was going on around her. He felt a frown forming on his face, despite-

_AAaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrgghh!_

It wouldn't stop… but somehow, he forced himself to his feet, and slowly began to stumble after her.

* * *

><p>It was strange that, with the insufferable scream resounding through her head, it blocked out all of the usual voices that intruded upon her thoughts, preventing her from clearing her mind. Now, however, she was able to think in a more straightforward fashion, and she tried lowering her hands from her ears.<p>

The volume didn't change.

Her eyebrows shot up at this revelation, and Bellatrix concluded that it must have been because the sound was inside her head- it was inside all of their heads. Not even Riddle seemed to realize it- but then, most people wouldn't consider have a shriek inside their heads as a way to get clarity. She forced her way to the door, surprised to see that Haruka was already back on her feet, her face a mask of concentration, having already uncovered her ears. Riddle soon discovered the problem as well, and strode through the door as though nothing was happening. Bellatrix grimaced as Haruka went to each of her men and prized their hands away from the sides of their heads.

As abruptly as the noise had begun, it stopped, leaving a ringing silence in its place. The voices rushed back to her, making her scowl. There had only been one time when the voices were completely silenced besides this, and-

No.

It wasn't possible.

Bellatrix scoffed, pushing her way through the wizards and marching swiftly down the hall, wand out and constantly moving in case of potential targets. Riddle's steady footsteps sounded behind her, matching her stride easily. Shouts could be heard, and she realized that the plan had been implemented- though whether it was actually successful or not remained to be seen. She picked up the pace even more, the heavy thud of her boots barely audible over the roar of screams that could be heard.

It was the tunnel system. There were Ministry workers everywhere, and Bellatrix suddenly realizes that Pugiles Mortem are confronting the aurors that were sent here, and that the screams are due to that- that, and the fact that some of the carts are out of control, running down people. The thought didn't make her sick like it might have in the past.

"Guardeno!" she hollered, conjuring a strong shield charm to block some black curse that had been flying towards her. Riddle's presence was noticed almost immediately, causing heads to turn and eyes to widen in fear. Bellatrix suddenly felt the strong urge to let out a loud laugh, but refrained from doing so, aware that it would only make people doubt her more. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor blocked spells and blasted aside Pugiles Mortem with almost lazy flicks of his wand, a bored look in his eyes.

Bellatrix spotted a flash of blond hair, causing her heart to stop and her wand to visibly shake in her hand. Her gaze wandered to the woman's stomach, swollen with an unborn child.

Without thinking, she began sprinting towards her.

* * *

><p>James Potter rather wished that he hadn't had to be the one to lead the infiltration of Nurmengard. Amelia had insisted on it, since she was going to be taking the opportunity to take a scouting team to Durmstrang. He slipped quietly to the edge of the wards, feeling a shiver run up his spine at the fog visible surrounding the imposing structure. His hand involuntarily went to his pocket, where a small photograph of Lily sat, smiling sweetly up at him. There was no denying that he was afraid- afraid of never being able to see his beloved wife's face again.<p>

But then, it was for that same reason that he was doing this. He wanted a future for them- his wife and kid.

A face poked its way up out of the underbrush, friendly brown eyes twinkling in his direction. Ted Tonks looked as sprightly as ever, if a little pale (most likely from being near so many dementors), and nodded at him, turning to gaze at Nurmengard. James grimaced at the sight, hearing the rustles of his team, spread through the undergrowth behind him.

There hadn't been any undergrowth before, but they'd been sending herbologists here for weeks now in order to build up a substantial hedge to cover their approach. The operation went unnoticed, as Grindelwald's forces were unconcerned with whatever went on beyond the wards, believing them to be impenetrable.

Tonks, with his skills in charms, had proved them wrong. James allowed himself a short grin of satisfaction at this thought, but that optimism was quickly dispelled when he thought of the Mortis Vindex in charge of the prison. Rodolphus Lestrange, his best friend's cousin-in-law, hated by his own wife; the feeling was apparently mutual, if any of the duels they'd had in the past were anything to go by. Expert on the many ways of torture and practically given immunity to the effects of the dementors.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a suicide mission.

"The key was to tear through the wards in the middle, since they're the ones that really hold up the rest," muttered Ted under his breath to him. "The inner and outer wards'll be fragile now, so a few well-placed Reductor Curses should do the trick. Many of the wizard guards and dementors left, probably to assist in the fight at the French Ministry already. We need to be quick, in case they come back."

James nodded, both wanting and dreading to tell Ted the news of his daughter's disappearance, but knowing that now was not the right time. At the very least, Andromeda was just fine, recuperating from the attack with Lily.

He waved his wand, which emitted a faint cracking noise and causing eleven pairs of eyes to become fixed on him. He gave a slight nod in the darkness (it was morning, but near Nurmengard, darkness was a given, no matter the time of day) and rose ever so slightly from his crouch. Holding up three fingers, he lowered one.

They tensed.

He lowered another.

There were several sharp intakes of breath as the aurors steeled themselves. Hestia Jones, as always, was the loudest.

The last one went down.

Twelve nonverbal Reductor curses flew at the weakened wards, and he noticed that the last few went through without being impaired. They spun on their heels, entering the points of the prison they were assigned to. He appeared in the dungeons, with the very lowest of cells, where shrieks of fear could be heard at their appearance. At once, tall ratty figures glided forward, and the familiar chill seeped through his skin.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The voices were not in unison, but it was enough to ensure that several patronuses flew towards the dementors, and James watched proudly as they staggered back from his own stag. The group of four was moving again, unlocking cells. He kept his face impassive when he found himself staring at the skeletal heaps of corpses, again and again. Every now and again they found someone alive unexpectedly, but those were few and far between down here.

In one of the cells, he found a woman, who had several cuts and bruises all over her face. She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, as though he were the devil himself, and scooted back. Her flesh hung raggedly off of her bones, and her hair was a dusty gray from neglect. Her yellow teeth made themselves known when she opened her mouth to scream.

"I'm an auror," he hissed, effectively silencing her before she could begin. A hand flew to her chest, and she breathed out noisily in relief.

"Thank Merlin," came her ragged whisper. A wan smile that didn't reach her eyes appeared as her next words came out.

"I'm Druella Black."

* * *

><p><em>"… would only come back to tell me that bloody bull!"<em>

_ Narcissa almost flinched as she pressed her ear to the door, knowing that Bellatrix's fury would be a sight to behold. In the room beyond were her eldest sister and her father, who had come back from the assault on the Black Manor weak and shaking, to tell them that he didn't know what had become of their mother. Bella had undeniably been the one hit hardest by this, and now she was raging at him for it. _

_ She could practically feel the vengeful heat emanating from her sister, even through the door. Bella had become utterly convinced that Cygnus Black had left his wife behind at the hands of the Pugiles Mortem, but the only words he had for them was to tell Bellatrix that she was still required to marry Rodolphus Lestrange. In front of their aunt, Uncle Orion, and their cousins Sirius and Regulus ( in their own home, no less!), Bellatrix had full on attack her father, screaming at him and finally losing the composure that usually seemed to come so naturally to her. _

_ Narcissa was jolted out of her thoughts by her sister's icy tone. _

_ "Fine," she was saying, as though it wasn't fine at all. "I'll do it. But not for you- never for _you_, you slimy bastard."_

_ Narcissa quickly flung herself away from the door, scampering down the hallway and barely making it around the corner before the door was slammed shut again. That night, her dreams were plagued by the sickly face of her father, and the hatred stewing in the depths of her sister's black eyes. _


End file.
